From the album:
by iconicdoxi
Summary: A series of random wwry one shots based on the titles of Queen songs.
1. Misfire

A/N: Ok so even though I have a crazy hectic life I still find myself needing to write and lately I've been craving a challenge.

So while I know I'm in the middle of writing an actual story, I'm just going to use this as an escape for when I'm stuck or frustrated and just feel like writing something that has nothing to do with the storyline of Keep Yourself Alive.

That being said I can't guarantee how often I'll post a new part on this. Keep in mind that it's **not a continuous chapter story**, it's a bunch of drabbles pretty much. And to make it more of a challenge I decided to write each drabble based on the title of a Queen song, naturally. It's pretty much like a word challenge just in the spirit of Queen, and unless I really want to go there, they won't have anything to do with the actual lyrics, just taking wwry and applying it to the actual title of the current Queen song. Make sense?... well to me it does lol so Enjoy! And please leave me some feedback! I love it so.

Disclaimer: I don't own wwry or Misfire, which is by Queen. Not me. Dammit.

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Misfire-From the Album Sheer Heart Attack

We're currently sitting around the bar, happily enjoying a few drinks while sharing stories from our past. Pop surely has the most interesting background, from what he remembers. Oz definitely has the most tragic but that's only because of how it ended, with her best friend and baby being killed in front of her that fateful night. Burton's an interesting case. He was actually a Secret Police in training before he joined the ranks of the bohemians. He had always hated Globalsoft but like myself and Figgy he was unaware of the resistance. At least until he began his training. He used Globalsoft and their attempts at finding the bohemians to lead him to who he now considers his family.

We just finished our first 'concert' as Pop had called it and amazingly, through some miracle, the power of our songs had brought the bohemians souls back. Thank the rock gods for that one. There was no way I could live and maintain my sanity if Pop and Figgy were the only two people for me to talk to. I wonder if it's possible to lose brain cells due to the company around you? Though, we do make quite the trio. Pop has the memories of the past, I have the brains when it came to the more technical and… obvious stuff and Figgy, well he has the dreams, the words. And as much as I had thought him crazy at first for it, I couldn't imagine him without it now. How I love him so much without knowing anything about him I'll never know. Ignorance really is bliss.

Sitting beside Figgy I was turned towards Oz who was sitting to my right and was caught up talking about those mah gah zeens from the past. They sounded awfully interesting, containing in depth interviews with rock bands and pictures to accompany them, and the best part was you could hold it, touch it.

"Wanna go to bed soon?" Figgy whispered in my ear as he slid his arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest, nearly causing me to fall off the barstool.

"That might be a good idea, I am pretty tired." I tell him, adding a little yawn for effect. I watch as his face falls a little bit before he quickly covers it up with a small smile. He is so easy.

"I guess sleep would be best then." He smiled still, dropping a kiss to my forehead.

I swooned then. Yes, swooned. I felt my heart swell, which was quite the feeling. Which was then replaced with another feeling, one I wasn't about to deny.

"Well, eventually of course. I think I definitely have some extra energy to burn off, Shagileo." I practically purr in his ear. Damn I'm good.

I watch his face light up and his cheeks take on a slight rosy colour he then glances around the bar, I assume to check if anyone heard. They didn't though, everyone was caught up in the afterglow of our success, well that and the booze we had been consuming.

"Shagileo?" Oz coughs in amusement from behind me and Figgy scratches his head in embarrassment. Damn I had forgotten about her.

Suddenly, before I could even fire back a clever remark the bar was being invaded by a group of SP's. I guess they didn't expect to find the main cause of the current uproar to be partying in the dingy bar because I notice quickly there are only about 5 of them. Their numbers don't stop them from pulling out their lasers though and I notice as not one, but two of them spot and take aim at Figgy.

I don't know why but I suddenly feel the need to protect him. And I do just that. I feel like I'm watching this all happen from a far and I watch as I throw myself at him, his face portrays shock and suddenly I feel a fascinating pain envelop my body before the pain turns to warmth.

I continue to watch as my body slumps in his arms and he nearly falters at the sudden shift in weight. I hear him call out my name but it sounds so far away. He doesn't get a response and I see his face contort to show a look of fear? Why is he scared? He needs to run before the SP's decide to fire at him again. And I really don't feel like taking another blow to my body, which he's still holding to his chest.

Oz grabs him then and pulls him behind the bar and I watch as we disappear behind the wooden structure. I look around and see Pop, Madonna, Burton, Avril and many of the other bohemians, including Clay, fighting against the SP's. Even though the SP's hold the guns they're still highly outnumbered and thankfully I get to watch as my friends take them down.

I feel a sharp pain in my chest which distracts me from the battle. What the hell? I assume Oz and Figgy have something to do with this so I walk around to see them behind the bar.

I'm currently lying on the dirty floor with my head being cradled in Figgy's lap. Oz is prodding my body, most currently my chest, which explains the sudden pain. I try to tell her to stop but apparently I have no voice at the moment. Shit.

I look at Figgy again and notice he's crying. I keep hearing him whisper words to me, it sounds almost like he's begging. That's embarrassing. I hate when people beg. It's annoying and pisses me off.

We're interrupted then as Burton runs over to us, out of breath.

"We gotta get out of-" He stops abruptly and I assume he's just now seen me lying on the floor. "Christ."

"Let's go!" Madonna yells to the four of us from the door.

"I'm not leaving her." Figgy mutters as he remains kneeling on the floor.

I'm about to swat him across the head and yell at him to get his ass moving before more SP's show up but Burton cuts in front of me and lift's my body into his own arms. I almost laugh then at Figgy's face. He looks baffled. And lost. Oz grabs him by the arm and pulls at him to stand, which he does. Something must have clicked in his brain because now he's running to the door and I'm left to try and catch up.

I'm suddenly terrified of falling behind and losing site of everyone but they're all moving so fast and I'm having trouble keeping up. I stop and close my eyes tightly and when I open them I'm in pain and looking up at Burton. I let out a groan and he looks down at me.

"Scaramouche! We're almost safe, stay with us." He tells me, glancing back and forth between me and in front of us.

I nod my head weakly, swallowing hard at the consistent pain that's throbbing through my body. I begin to feel that warm tingly feeling start to take over the throbbing and it dawned on me what was happening. I'm dying. I had taken two shots of laser beam to my small body and it was really beginning to take its toll.

I cry Figgy's name but I don't know if it makes it past my lips as I'm soon surrounded by a white light. I no longer feel any pain. I feel a slight tug, something is pulling at me but I can't find anything as I look around, other then that I feel peaceful. It's actually kind of nice.

I closed my eyes only seconds ago but now that I've opened them I feel that pain start to return. Oh and it's getting stronger, shit. I don't feel all that peaceful anymore but I still feel that tug. I can now recognize that something's pulling at my right hand. It's dark now though so I can't see anything, another contrast to what I was dealing with only a matter of seconds ago. The pain has now leveled out, which is nice. It's not as strong as I remember it being, but it's still uncomfortable.

I try to move my hand, pull it closer to my face so I can see it but something else is holding it still and I feel its grip tighten. This sucks. I'm getting frustrated. I close my eyes tightly and groan.

"Scaramouche?" I hear Figgy's voice call to me, it's scratchy but strong. I think I'm just hearing things but as I open my eyes and my vision clears I can see him in front of me, his face full of hope.

"Wake up baby. C'mon." He coaxes as I feel him run his hand through my hair. I use my free hand to rub at my eyes, why the hell didn't I think to use that hand before? And then there's pain. Ah, that might be why.

I shut my eyes and cringe, which creates more pain and at that moment I try to get back to my place of white light and peacefulness. But apparently that's not allowed.

"No, stay with me Scaramouche. Please. Please open your eyes again." Figgy pleads with me. I wonder if he knows that I'm trying to get away. I keep my eyes closed in resistance but the pain continues.

"Hurts." I hear myself moan involuntarily. My throat is dry and my moan came out more in a whisper then anything.

"You got shot by two laser beams, it's a surprise you're still here." I hear Madonna's gruff voice tell me, as if I didn't know. This makes me open my eyes again to glare at him. What an idiot.

"Thank god." Figgy sighs and I revel in the feel of his kisses being laid on my face, that's definitely helping with the pain.

"Water?" I ask weakly when he stops and buries his face into my hair. He quickly reaches over to a table I can't see and guides a straw to my lips. As I sip through the straw I feel more pain in my chest and tears immediately form in my eyes but I fight through it to sooth my throat.

"Where do you hurt?" Figgy asks gently, I guess he noticed the tears because he's now wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. I give him a look that tells him that was a stupid question and instead of fighting back he just smiles and kisses my forehead. Whispering 'I love you' before sitting up again.

"Where are we?" I ask when I realize there's a big chunk of events I must have missed. I mean the last thing I remember is being carried by Burton and now I was actually lying in a bed being cared for by Figgy and apparently Madonna.

"An old subway station. It's safe, at least it has been since we've been here." Figgy told me, looking up at Madonna who nodded in agreement.

"Which is how long?" I ask trying to piece everything together.

"About 3 days." Figgy answers, giving me a strange look that I'm sure mirrored my own. How had it been 3 days? It felt like only minutes ago we had been running for a new hiding spot, which we apparently found. 3 days ago.

"I'm gonna go tell the others that you're awake. Glad to have you back Scaramouche." Madonna tells me as he kisses the side of my head. What the fuck was that?

"I thought I lost you." Figgy mumbles with his head down, breaking me away from my shock of Madonna's actions.

"It's gonna take more then a couple laser beams for you to get rid of me." I smirk, trying to make light of my near death, I'm guessing I shouldn't tell him that I think I did die for a little bit. Or at least came extremely close to.

"That's not funny." He tells me sternly, finally looking up at me. It's now that I notice he was crying. Well now I felt bad.

"Figgy, I'm here. Alive. And look, still have all my fingers." I smiled, wincing when I wiggled my fingers in front of him. I was shot in the chest, why the hell is everything else hurting?

"Why did you jump in front of the lasers? How could you be so stupid!?" He practically yelled at me, surprising the crap out of me. I almost die and I'm getting yelled at?

"Stupid? Stupid would be letting you take the hit and chancing you dying. The world needs you Galileo." I tell him, leaving out the part where _I_ just didn't want to chance him dying. _Me_. I actually didn't really think about the rest of it until after it had happened.

"And I need you." Was his broken response. He looked at me with such sad eyes, glossy with tears. It was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I wanted nothing but to be in his arms in that moment but when I went to move all I felt was a searing pain.

I guess he got what I was trying to do because I was soon wrapped up in his arms. It was physically painful but being in his embrace pushed everything else aside.

"I love you Scaramouche. So much." He whispered hoarsely into my hair causing me to let out a sob, and it never occurred to me before then that I was even crying.

"I love you too." I cried, tightening my arms around him. As we sat there holding each other I figured out that I was crying due to the mass amounts of pain I was currently experiencing and because I had realized just how close I was to never seeing him again. I decided then that I was never going to be the cause of a misfire again. The SP's were never going to get another shot at _any_ of us.


	2. Blurred Vision

A/N: I'm happy everyone's loving this idea of mine! I'm feeling quite proud lol Though I have to admit. I hope my first installment isn't going to make me out to be a one hit wonder because I feel like this next part turned out…interestingly. I actually had a lot of difficulty writing the end and scrapped a big chunk of it. It's definitely not my best work, but I know I've written worse lol

I was actually looking through titles after a late night of partying and saw Blurred Vision and, in my hungover state, decided to write about it. I wrote for like 10 minutes before giving up and going back to bed. But I came back to it and got it done. I have a feeling it would have been a lot…whinier, if I had of written it all in my initial creative spark….annd actually a couple other idea's came from this one so look out for those.

Last note since I actually had quite the fun writing in Scaramouche's perspective I decided to have at it again…Not all will be written like this, nor will all be written via Scaramouche. Just so everything is clear.

And I'm done rambling. Enjoy what you can.

Oh wait, no I'm not. Another thing. The site where I get the song titles from gives me random quotes by our beloved Queen for every album. So I've decided to post to you here the quote I get when I open the album page. :)

Our first one being:

"I thought we would be huge - and we were."

Freddie Mercury

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

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Blurred Vision from the album Complete Vision.

"It's your turn to clean it up! More so, it was your idea!" This is what I wake up to. I have no clue who's yelling and who it's directed at and frankly I don't care. I was having a damn good sleep.

I moan in disturbance and roll over to find comfort in Figgy's chest, except he's not there. What the hell? He's never up before me, unless of course he drank too much the night before. In that case I know to find him hugging the toilet. Yeah, he was one of _those_ hangover types. How fun.

I look over at our alarm clock, with the broken alarm, and see that it's two in the afternoon. Shit, what the hell happened last night to keep me in bed 'til two? I know I had a few drinks but this was ridiculous.

Wanting an explanation I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I'm hit suddenly with a headache and wonder how much I drank exactly last night. I shake it off, pull on one of Figgy's black t-shirts and my own sweatpants and throw open the door. As I walk to the kitchen I think of maybe stopping in the bathroom to freshen up but don't really feel like seeing if I look as bad as I feel.

As I enter the kitchen I notice Oz, Clay and Aretha look at me and giggle. Maybe I should have stopped in the bathroom. I better not have any special drawings on my face, I'll seriously kick some ass…well tomorrow at least.

"And how are you feeling this morning?" Oz asks me in a mocking tone.

"I'm fine. Why?" I tell her, though my voice reveals something completely different.

"Jus wonderin. That's all." She smirks, going back to talking with Clay. I'm in no mood for any of their games so I head to the fridge for some water. I pass Figgy who's leaning against the counter and see him in my peripheral follow me with his eyes. Seriously, what the hell is going on?

"Morning." I grumble once I've grabbed my drink and am now standing next to him.

"Morning." He responds simply, putting his arm around me and kissing my hair. How sweet. Yuck.

"What's wrong?" I ask him curiously. He's never this quiet or restrained, and it's a little weird.

"Nothings wrong." Right, like I believe that. I study him and watch as he avoids eye contact with me. He glances at me I guess to see if I'm still looking at him and then quickly looks away, his eyes moving over the kitchen.

"Huh. You sure about that?" I ask in a condescending tone, hoping maybe he'll think I know something that apparently I don't and at least give me some sort of telling response.

"Pretty sure. Yeah." He shrugs, flashing me a smile, still with no eye contact. Well this is fun. Obviously I've done something. I pull myself up to sit on the counter beside him and try to remember last night.

"_Just in, Globalsoft had to shut down it's fifth office today, leaving only it's head office still functioning. Due to the declining popularity of Computer Recorded Anodyne Pop, among other 'matter', Globalsoft has not only been losing mass amounts of money but also more then half of it's employee's." Burton read from his laptop. There was a loud chorus of cheers from everyone and it didn't take long for the booze to start flowing._

_I laughed as Figgy struggled to carry a tray of drinks to the table he, Oz, Brit, Madonna and I had been occupying and the smile remained plastered on my face as we cheered to the good news. We all downed a shot of straight liquor before relishing our own drinks, mine being my treasured rum and coke. It wasn't too long before Figgy had jumped up onto our makeshift stage and began singing and only seconds after that I had found myself accompanying him with my guitar. _

Okay. So far so good. Mental note to remember that song we played last night and write it down for future reference.

_Further into the night had me sitting on Figgy's lap, still enjoying my rum and coke and laughing as I watched Brit concentrate so hard on our current game of caps. We had ganged up on him early in the game so now his aim was affected and he was hoarding all the caps. So one by one he aimed and missed as he tried to knock Oz's cap off her bottle._

_I had been innocently enjoying my drink and entertainment when I felt Figgy, probably just as innocently, rub his hand on my leg as I laughed. This caused me to pull him into a heated kiss right then and there. I felt the world disappear from around us as his hands roamed my back and thigh and I gripped at his hair, our tongues battling for dominance. Soon he had picked me up and carried me back to our room._

_He set me down on the bed and I stood up only to sway a bit before falling back onto the bed, giggling loudly at my own inebriated state. I had been drinking while sitting and this was my first attempt at standing once the drinking games started, and that's when I realized just how drunk I actually was._

_Figgy was quick to join me on the bed, efficiently ending my giggles as he crawled on top of me. We were drunk and sloppy and probably really loud, but neither of us really cared. _

So we got drunk, played some music, played some games, showed some PDA and had some drunken sex. I was failing to see the problem. I myself don't normally get that drunk, Figgy sometimes drinks enough for the both of us, but last night was a cause for celebration. Maybe that was it. Maybe he was mad that I drank so much. If that was it he could go to hell. I mean it's not like I never get drunk, and I mean he never had a problem with it before. I am _so_ confused.

"You okay?" Figgy raised his eyebrow in question, having heard me sigh in frustration. At least he cares still.

"Yeah, that a problem?" I shoot back hoping again for a telling reaction.

"No…should it be?" He asked over his shoulder. Ugh this was annoying.

"None what so ever." I smirk then and hop off the counter. Clearly I'm not getting anything from him. Time for plan b. As much as I didn't want to have to go to her, I find myself walking over to Oz and Clay and sitting down in a chair.

"Someone's getting the cold shoulder." Clay points out, causing the three of us to look back over at Figgy. As soon as we look over he attempts to look interested in whatever Aretha was talking about, stealing a glace back at us before we turn around.

"Okay. What the hell happened last night? I clearly don't remember doing anything that would piss him off so. Lay it on me." I tell them tiredly.

"He's mad?" Oz asked with a raised eyebrow, indicating to me that something's not matching up.

"Well he's not, not mad. He's being weird." I sigh adding, "Well weirder then usual." Off their pointed looks.

"What_ do_ you remember from last night?" Clay asks me with growing interest, he was such a girl sometimes.

"I remember singing, drinking, playing caps, macking Figgy at the bar and then you know, doing the fandango..." I tell them in a hinting voice, I'm still not as exuberant as Oz when it comes to telling people about my sex life.

"That's it?" Oz asks with a smirk.

"Well yeah. I mean we obviously slept after that so other then waking up this morning that's all I got."

"Oh honey. You came back out." Clay informs me in a sympathetic tone.

"Huh?" I did what now?

"About an hour and a half after you and the dreamer there took off you came back out to join us. Drunk as can be with a huge grin on your face, some short shorts and one of his tee's. But you came back out to us."

"I didn't." I groan and try to remember what they were telling me. Nothing was coming to me very clearly. This is bad. "So what happened then?"

"_Look who's come back to join us, nice hair Scaramouche." Aretha whistled as I practically skipped into the bar area._

"_I'm not tired enough to sleep…Figgy however. Out like a light." I smirked as I took a seat among the remaining partiers._

"_I'm sure he is. Atta girl!" Oz exclaimed proudly, passing a beer to me._

"_So whad I miss?" I slurred happily, letting my body relax in the chair._

"_Not a whole lot…we're bored so we've pulled out the old party games. You're sitting in for spin the bottle." Aretha informed me happily, to which both Clay and Brit rolled their eyes. Pop, Madonna, Oz and a few other bohemians, however, seemed to be enjoying the game._

"_Seriously?" I asked skeptically._

"_Hell yea, now spin the damn bottle." Oz rushed me._

"_Oh no. I wouldn't want to take away from whoever's turn it was." I tried to bow out gracefully, not wanting to be put on the spot._

"_Sweet mother of rock! My spin then!" Pop exclaimed excitedly, letting out a whistle when it landed on Oz to which I let out a giggle._

"_Christ." Oz muttered before she leaned over to Pop who was conveniently sitting next to her and gave him a quick peck on his lips. She quickly took a big swig of her beer before spinning the bottle for her turn. I watched as the bottle came to a stop and all eyes turned to me._

"_Oh for fuck's sake." I mumble watching as Oz smirked from across the table. "Well I'm not coming to you."_

"_Not a problem." Oz shrugged as she got from her chair and sauntered over to me. I knew she was doing this to get a rise out of the boys, she loved getting that attention. I apparently loved to play along._

"Okay. Wait. We played spin the bottle and we kissed? He wasn't even there to see it!" I whine, interrupting my recollection of the night with Oz filling me in on my missing parts.

"Keep going babe." She laughed.

_Oz sat down in another chair and pulled herself in front of me, her legs basically straddling mine. I practically heard the guys lean in to watch and had to stop myself from giggling when I glanced over and saw their faces waiting in anticipation._

"_Just go with me on this." I heard her whisper to me. I guess the guys had higher expectations for our kiss then I did because before I knew what was happening they were cheering and Oz was giving me quite the slow and sensual kiss. It felt kind of weird. It was a kiss, sure, but I wasn't feeling anything. Which I guess is a good thing considering it was Oz. As I felt her run her hand up my arm I heard someone scrape their chair on the floor and used it as an interruption. Pulling away, we heard the guys boo in objection and I had to laugh, and then I saw who had joined us, and he didn't look all that happy._

_Apparently I turned to Oz then and nodded my head in his direction and together we sauntered over to him, me a little more sloppy then sexy, but I'm sure my point was still clear. I reached him and took a seat on his lap, not noticing the look he sent to Oz which caused her to back off and cuddle with Brit._

"I don't know what you two talked about. But it ended with you getting up and trying and failing to storm off. Which ended up with you tripping over yourself and Galileo carrying you back to bed, at little less exuberant this time round though. You passed out before he got out through the doors." Oz finished her version of the night.

"Shit." I grumbled, looking over to where Figgy was only to find him gone. "Did you happen to hear anything during our apparent argument?"

"Sorry, I got nothing. I just know that he looked frustrated with you and you went from happy drunk to annoyed drunk really fast." Clay told me sympathetically. Ah crap.

"A hangover and a make up. Greaat." I rub my eyes tiredly before standing up, swaying a little and I realize I'm probably still a little 'affected' by the amount of booze I apparently consumed last night.

"Goodluck girl." Clay encourages as I make my way out of the kitchen, and internally I hope I don't need it.

I decide to stop in the bathroom before I try to make up for whatever I did last night and brush my teeth. Looking in the mirror makes me feel worse and I wipe off some of the smeared make up and revel in the feeling of the cool water on my face. I'm able to tame my hair somewhat and after 3 minutes of looking at myself I give up.

I enter our room to find him lying on our bed in the dark, the light from the hallway falling conveniently on his face so I can see that his eyes are open and he's awake. I close the door quietly and fall beside him on the mattress.

"I think I drank wayy too much last night." I groan in hopes that maybe that'll help my case.

"Why do you say that?" He asks me, his voice void of emotion. Damn he's gotten really good at this blasé thing. Why did he have to pick these things up from me so easily?

"Because I can't remember half of the night." I admit quietly, playing with the hem of my shirt.

"Really?" Wait, is that actual curiosity I hear from him now?

"Yea, apparently my night didn't end when I thought it did."

"Which was…"

"When we came in here the first time." He makes a weird noise and scratches his head, but other then that he gives me no reaction. "Oz and Clay told me that I came back to the bar though."

"And?" I notice him turn his head to look at me.

"And I don't remember any of it…apparently you came back too."

"Yea when I woke up and found you gone. Imagine my surprise when I find you and you're making out with Oz."

"You know most guys would love that." I tease and look at him, he doesn't find the humour in it though and I realize he's actually hurt. "Oh c'mon, I was plastered, we were playing a game and Oz was having fun with the guys…it's not like I liked it."

"You didn't?" He sounds genuinely surprised to hear that.

"No! Figgy, contrary to what the teen queens thought, I'm not into girls. And considering I'm with you, I would think you kind of got that." I tell him, not being able to stop my voice from rising.

"I do get it." He admits and looks back up at the ceiling.

"Well then?"

"All I knew was that you had left me in bed and I found you kissing someone else."

"Oz…Don't you think that if I really wanted her I wouldn't be randomly kissing her in front of all the drunken pervs we live with?"

"Well no, I guess not…"

"Okay. Good, glad we cleared that up then." I sigh, and I know I should leave it there, but the fighter in me can't let it go. "Thanks for thinking me a slut though."

"What?" I can hear in his voice that I just confused the hell out of him. I knew he was expecting me to succumb to my hangover and cuddle with him until I fell asleep, but right now I'm tired and bitchy, a lethal combination.

"Nice to know what you think of me, that I just go around hooking up with people." I tell him, now sitting up in the bed, facing him with my legs crossed.

"I don't think that." He sighs as he follows me and sits up, leaning against the wall, knowing that we have the potential for another round.

"You just got pissed at me for joking around with Oz, while drunk."

"I don't think you're a slut Scaramouche. I never thought that." He explains tiredly but sincerely. I can tell he already regrets being mad about any of this in the first place, he knows now it was stupid, and at this point I can accept his apology or continue to fight.

"Swear?" I've decided to take the high road and just let it go. I'm pretty proud of myself quite honestly.

"I swear Scaramouche. I love you." He promises and leans over to give me a reassuring kiss. "Now can we lie down and sleep off this hangover?"

"You're hungover? Babe you don't even know what I'm feeling like right now." I whine, letting him pull me into his chest as we both lie in the middle of our bed.

"You're not going to be sick are you?" I can just about hear his face screw up in disgust as his grip loosens around me.

"No, I'm not you." I grumble into his chest enjoying the warmth and comfort I've always found there.

"Well you did drink a lot last night."

'Trust me. I know…well kind of." I feel his chest vibrate as he laughs at me and I realize I wouldn't want to be any other place in this moment. "Shut up and go to sleep."

"Just promise you won't leave me this time." His voice is muffled by my hair and his breath feels warm on my scalp.

"Deal." I look up and seal it with a chaste kiss then snuggle back into his chest. He tightens his arms around me and within 5 minutes we're both passed out in a much needed sleep. After all we need to be well rested and happy for the party that's sure to happen later tonight.


	3. Seaside Rendezvous

A/N: Oh how I love comments! Remember that for after you read this, reviews equal love. Love equals more updates. lol

So first of all huge thank you to CrayolaxSmiles for reading this over and beta-ing for me…not everything makes sense when I stay up writing until 1am…However I'm glad I did because I was _finally_ able to write and, more importantly, finish another installment. Yay! (I have so many half written 'chapters' it's ridiculous)

It's short. It's uber fluffy. And has a few sexual innuendos. And I'm quite fond of it.

So my lovelies, enjoy, and remember to let me know what you think!

xox

-Dea

"They wouldn't let us into Russia. They thought we'd corrupt the youth or something." -Freddie Mercury

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Seaside Rendezvous: from the album A Night at the Opera 

"Figgy put me down!" She screamed, bubbling with laughter while I carried her over my shoulder as I ran down the steps from the parking lot to the beach.

"I will, I will." I told her, chuckling, slowing my pace as we neared the water. It was a warm sunny day and after the destruction of Globalsoft, the lakes had begun to replenish themselves and the beaches were becoming a popular hangout again.

"Galileo Figaro. If you drop me in the water, I swear to God…" She threatened as she stopped squirming and tightened her grasp around my shoulders.

"You'll what?" I asked teasingly, maneuvering her so I was now carrying her in my arms in front of me.

"Figaro!" She yelped, trying to sound menacing, when I loosened my grip on her, a smirk wide on my face. "Please put me down…and _**not**_ in the water!"

She was serious at this point. We had been together for 3 years now; I knew her limits. I knew if I kept pissing around she'd be quick to get mad. So instead I took a few steps backwards until I felt dry sand under my feet and slowly lowered her to the ground. Maybe taking a little too much enjoyment in feeling her body slide down mine.

"Better?" I asked when her bare feet touched the ground.

"Much." She showed her appreciation by keeping her arms around me and pulling me down for a kiss. It was moments like this that I lived for.

"Looks like we have the place to ourselves." I commented suggestively once we broke from our kiss. She kept her arms around my waist still, her head on my chest and stared out across the water. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just, it's so peaceful. Kind of makes you think of how it used to be, how it could be."

"It'll get there. We'll get it there." I promised her, hugging her closer to my body. She had mellowed out in the past few years, still lippy and completely sarcastic, but she had also begun to show a deeper, emotional side to her persona. This was that side.

"You sound pretty confident there Figaro, you sure you can handle something that big? Well, actually I guess we already know the answer to that." She smirked and grinded herself against me, pulling me down for another kiss. I happily kissed her back and was only vaguely aware of our progress into the lake. It wasn't until she pulled away and hit me with a huge shove, causing me to fall backwards into the water, that I realized we had been standing in calf-deep water.

"That was low Scaramouche." I sputtered as a wave hit me and drowned me in deeper water. I heard her laughter increase when she saw me struggle and I could see her standing a few feet away from me, holding her sides in happy pain.

"Payback's a bitch!" She laughed and when she took a minute to wipe her eyes, I quickly jumped up and ran towards her, causing her to shriek and run towards the shore.

"C'mon I just want a hug!" I called after her, quickly catching up as her short legs got caught against the water.

"Figgy!" She screeched as I grabbed her by the waist and swung her around, soaking her back as it pressed against my wet clothes. I laughed and kept spinning, moving us further away from the shore, until eventually we both fell back into the water, knocked down by dizziness and a wave. "Jerk!"

"What was it you called a bitch? Payback, I believe?" Yeah, I too had gotten a hang of the whole sarcasm thing. Had to learn with Scaramouche around… not that I'm complaining; it tends to come in handy quite often, especially when it comes to dealing with some more then irritating people.

"I hate you! I can't believe you just did that!" She yelled before trying to stand up, laughing as she fell back into the water and subsequently on me.

"Get off me you drunk." I teased, mocking her inability to shake the dizziness from me spinning her.

"Wow, never thought I'd hear those words come from your mouth Mr. Figaro." She grinned, lifting herself off of me only for me to pull her back.

"Well then you can know I would never mean it." I whispered into her ear, pulling her lobe playfully with my teeth.

"You better not." She told me as she turned around to straddle me in the water, kissing me quickly and then standing up and laughing as another wave washed over me. Still laughing, she offered me her hand. Though it crossed my mind to use it to pull her back into the water, I fought the urge and allowed her to help me to stand.

"Good choice on the white." I commented when I realized the white shirt she had worn today was now completely see through and clinging to her body.

"Shut up, it's no one's fault but your own." She shoved me playfully and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well since it's already showing everything, might as well just take it off." I suggested, earning my arm a hearty swat and a sped up pace out of the water.

"Always the joker this one." She said dryly as I kept up with her.

"Wait, who said I was joking?" I laughed when she turned around to shoot me a mock-glare before I grabbed her and carried her in my arms to the shore.

"Gee thanks." She rolled her eyes when I put her down once we got to the dry sand.

"I do my best."

"Clearly." She threw back quickly, jumping back when I shook out my hair, spraying her with water. "Thanks again, Figaro."

"Anytime…you feel like heading back?" I asked when I noticed her shiver as the wind blew at our wet bodies.

"Not really…but I guess we should, I mean we, well I, shouldn't keep everyone waiting; it's the price of being this amazing." She sighed heavily as I laughed at her dramatics.

"I love you." I told her as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her back to my chest, kissing the side of her head.

"Ah, another price of being as awesome as I am." She laughed as she stopped walking and turned around in my arms. "I love you too. Thanks for today, we needed this."

"Mmm… anything for you." I whispered before capturing her in a kiss, enjoying every moment before we headed back to our home, back to reality.


	4. She Makes Me

A/N: Well the lack of reviews hurts a little bit…but at least it's consistent? HUGE thank you to you who did drop a review though, they really do help to write out more work. Also huge thanks to CrayolaxSmiles for beta-ing for me, adding in a couple lines of her own humour which just made it even better.

Disclaimer: I don't own We Will Rock You or anything affiliated with it. And I don't own Queen nor the song She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos).

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Queen quote of the album:

"Why are you wasting your time doing this? You should do more original material. You should be more demonstrative in the way that you put the music across. If I was your singer that's what I'd be doing."

(_Freddy Mercury_ to _Brian May_ & _Roger Taylor_ prior to joining their band)

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She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos) - Sheer Heart Attack

"Scaramouche stop!" I yell, letting out a frustrated sigh as she continues to ignore me and walk, rather quickly, away from me. I'm faster then her though, so it takes only seconds for me to catch up and grab her arm.

"Let. Go." She commands through her teeth. Oh, she's pissed. She is most definitely pissed. I mean, she hasn't even turned around.

"Just hear me out," I plead, ignoring her request and still gripping her wrist.

She scoffs at me, "Why? So I get to not only see what _'pleasure'_ you just got, but I get to hear about it too? Yeah, umm, no thanks!" Her voice is laced with angry sarcasm as she pulls her arm from my grasp and stomps away.

"Scaram-" I start to follow her but am stopped suddenly when Clay Aiken steps out in front of me, complete with backing by Burton.

"What'd you do to her?" Burton asks me bluntly.

"Nothing, I just…Could you move?" They've completely blocked the hallway and, though I've only been in contact with them for a few seconds, I'm already fed up with their weird brotherly protection over her.

"I don't think she wants to talk to you from what we just heard," Clay tells me with conviction in his voice.

"Yeah well you don't know what we were talking about. And, as a matter of fact, neither does she, so if you'll just let me by I can go clear that up," I try to explain and hold back my growing anger. I watch as they look at each other and then back at me. In tandem, they separate and allow me to pass, which in itself is creepy, but then they eye me with matching wary stares as I walk past them, shaking my head in annoyance.

I get to our room and hear a loud commotion coming from inside. Opening the door I find what little belongings I have in a mess on the floor, Scaramouche in the middle of it all.

"What the hell?" I mutter loud enough for her to hear. She looks up at me and then past me, giving a discarding nod to who I assume are Burton and Clay, who must have followed me. Judging from their past behavior, they probably walked in time with each other to boot. Looking behind me I find myself correct and throw them a glare before I step inside the room and close and lock the door behind me. "They seriously need to lay off."

"They can do what ever they want. At least they're not openly mauling me…Speaking of here's all your shit," she motions to my stuff at her feet and kicks at it.

"And what are you expecting me to do with it?"

"Get it, as well as you, _out_ of here," she informs me quite simply.

"What? Scaramouche!"

"No! I want you out of here. Away from all of us would be more then perfect but I doubt your little friend would be up for letting you crash at her place. However, contrary to belief I'm not a heartless bitch and don't want you living on the streets, so I guess you can stay at the Heartbreak, so long as I don't have to see your face," she tells me. Her arms are crossed and though she's pissed, her eyes tell me she's hurt and upset, and it's because of me.

"I never thought you were a heartless bitch," I say to her lamely.

"Oh, how sweet. You can leave now," she says shortly, I know she wants nothing more than for me to leave, but if I do I know this will be harder to repair then it is now.

"Scaramouche, nothing-"

"No. Don't tell me nothing happened with you and your little _'stormtrooper'_" She cuts me off, her voice spiky with disgust, "Don't lie to me. I know what you've been doing for the past two weeks."

"Then what Scaramouche? Tell what I've been doing for the past two weeks?" I ask exasperatedly.

"Oh no Mr Figaro. I'm not going to give you anything to help you figure out what lie to tell me next… Do you not understand that we're in the middle of breaking up right now?"

"What!? Why?" I knew she was pissed but I didn't think we were breaking up.

"Why? Because _Lover Boy_, you couldn't keep it in your pants. That's why!"

"Couldn't keep wh-" I stop mid sentence when she gives me a pointed look, first to my crotch then to my face. Wait a second. "Hey! I never slept with her!"

"Newsflash: just because you say it, doesn't make it true."

"It's not true!" How could she think I would go and sleep with someone other then her?

"First off, people don't dance like you two were dancing the other night unless they've fucked each other. Trust me."

"What are you talking about Scaramouche?" I ask her; I'm actually thoroughly confused at what's going through her mind right at this moment.

"Last week. At Brighton Rock. Me and Oz saw you there with her."

"And what were _you _doing there?" I ask her with a raised eyebrow. The only time girls ever went to B Rock was when they were looking for a hook-up, even _I_ knew that.

"Listen here Galileo, unlike some people in this room I don't sleep with everything that happens to have two legs and a heartbeat," she says slowly. Her voice remains eerily calm still, no yelling. Just short simple statements, some of which, like this one, don't make much sense.

"But it's only me and you in here…" I tell her, stating the obvious but still not getting her point.

"Oh my _God_…you're really not making this easy, are you?" she sighs tiredly and pulls herself up on the dresser to sit.

"Well if you could just tell me why you're pissed then maybe I could help out." I try with a bit of humor. She doesn't laugh though; she's not really showing much emotion right now, although I think that may be exactly her intention.

"You. Your little stiletto wearing whore. Practically doing the fandango on the dance floor," she blurts out lividly, finally, a feeling.

"That wasn't me," I shrug simply before reaching down to pick up my clothes from the floor and putting them on the bed. I look up when she doesn't say anything and realize that she's watching me in disbelief.

"I can't believe you're lying to me! Like, down-right lying. I _caught you_ being a cheating ass and you're still lying about it. To my face!"

"Well what do you want me to tell you Scaramouche? That yes, you were such a bitch that night that I went out to B Rock and got hammered? That yes, I might have danced with a girl while I was there. And that yes, she expected more from me after I helped her out with a problem she was having? And-"

"Whoa buddy, back up the fun bus! You helped her out with a _problem she was having_? What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Scaramouche interrupts.

"And that yes, you did see her kiss me today. But obviously you didn't stick around to see me tell her off and make sure that she didn't come around anymore." I finish, ignoring her comment, my voice a few notches louder then when I had first started my rant of explanation.

"Why did she expect more Galileo? What did you help her with?" she asks me slowly though she's clearly unimpressed and I'm not helping my case.

"She was having boyfriend issues…" I confess. I might as well be honest now…

"What he wasn't satisfying her in the sack?" she scoffed.

"No! I just helped her make it clear to him that they were broken up." That's not so bad is it?

"Oh. Great. Good job Figgy. Now, where is this guy? Maybe I can use him to make the same thing clear to you." Why was she being such a bitch about this?

"You're seriously taking this too far Scaramouche. You really want to break up over this?"

"Well I don't see why you're so heartbroken. Clearly you can just go to the nearest bar and pick up any girl you want." Wow, I think I just sensed a little bit of jealousy. I took a minute then. It was clear she was hurt and now _I_ needed to calm down before this ended badly.

"I don't want just any girl Scaramouche." I tell her sincerely, anger void from my voice.

"Maybe you could find another one who wears stiletto's and carries a clutch. Maybe she'll wear hoop earrings and even gasp flip her hair."

"Oh c'mon, stop." I sigh.

"No, she could maybe wear those thigh high stiletto's, with a really short, skin tight skirt."

"Scaramouche, stop." I tell her, my voice blunt and tired.

"Why her?" She asks me then, her voice portraying more hurt than I knew she wanted me to catch.

"I told you. I was just there to get drunk; she came to me and asked for my help. That's all."

"That's all?" She looked me over, as if something about me would tell her differently.

"That's it Scaramouche."

"There better not be anything else."

"There's not…now, want to tell me why you really flipped out?" I promised, braving her fit and sitting down beside her on the dresser, bumping her playfully with my shoulder.

"I thought you were fooling around with another girl, that's not reason enough?"

"Why would you ever think I would cheat on you?" She doesn't answer me, just shrugs. "Scaramouche?"

"I heard you talking with some of the guys a few weeks ago. About who you used to be, about the girls…And the girls you used to be with are so completely opposite of me, and there were a lot of them."

"You heard that?" Shit.

"Yeah, and let me tell you that having to hear all that from an overheard conversation instead of you just telling me… Not so cool Figaro," she was back to talking calmly, which sometimes scared me more then when was yelling. This was once again, one of those times.

"Trust me, not the way I would have liked for you to hear that either," I confess, scratching at the back of my head.

"Were you ever going to tell me about them?"

"I wasn't planning on it. No."

"What!? Seriously?" She gave me a look of disbelief at that moment and I didn't quite understand why.

"Well it's not really important. Plus you've never told me about anyone before we met."

"Yea, cause there's not much to tell. You on the other hand could apparently write a novel."

"You're over exaggerating," I tell her; my past isn't _that _colourful.

"Am I? Can you count the girls you've fucked on your hands?" She doesn't give me much time to answer and instead answered for me, "No, you can't. That's sick."

"If who I used to be disturbs you so much then why are you still here?" Ah shit. Retract statement!

"Because, Galileo, regardless of your slutty past I still love you, for some godforsaken reason," I sigh as she shakes her head at herself and I get the feeling she's mad at herself for loving me.

"Then if I have your love-" I try to do that whole happy memory thing, remind her of when it was just us against the world.

"Don't. No, don't bring it there," she takes my attempt and shoots it, and me along with it, down with a glare meant to kill.

"Scaramouche. I love _you_. None of those other girls matter. They're just a part of my past, if I could go back and change it I would," I tell her, watching her eyes for any sign of forgiveness.

"How do you go from slutty stormtroopers in stilettos to someone like me? That doesn't make sense."

"I never loved any of them Scaramouche. They…they were how I dealt with being an outcast. While the boyzone clones and teen queens were tormenting me the stormtroopers did the opposite. They wanted me, and I needed to be wanted, even if it wasn't exactly for the right things." Wow, I have never told anyone any of that. This could go one of two ways.

"You couldn't just cry and be a bitch about it like the rest of us?" She asks me and I still can't tell which way this was going.

"I don't cry or bitch," I take a shot at it going the good way, the way where she accepts my past and we move on. Not the way where she laughs in my face and tells me to fuck off.

"Ha. Who was the one on the ground in tears only last week after roughing around with the guys?" she teases, a good sign.

"Completely different issue. I was in severe physical pain from that kick," I tell her, adding a little bit of a whine to my voice. She doesn't respond, just sits there quietly, staring at the floor. "I love you Scaramouche."

"I love you too Figgy," she answers quietly, never looking up from the floor.

"Are we okay?" I ask her, using my hand to guide her face to look at me.

"Yeah, I guess…" she shrugs, "But next time, even though there better not be a next time, just tell me what's going on."

"I can do that," I tell her after a fake moment of thought.

"Good."

"Now, can I just say how hot you are when you're jealous?" I whisper in her ear as I pull her against me.

"I was _not_ jealous," She denies with emphasis, tipping her head to the side to allow me more access to her neck, which I was currently kissing.

"Right."

"I wasn't," she tells me shortly, pulling back to make sure I understand.

"Well I guess you're just hot then," I smirk and run my hands up and down her sides and back.

"Wow, cheesy."

"Hmm, I try." I sigh, leaning my forehead against hers and rubbing our noses together.

"Oh I know." She teases and begins to pull us back towards the bed.

"And you love it."

"Umm…" she scrunches her nose in disagreement which makes me chuckle.

"Well me, you love me," I correct as we stop, the backs of her legs hitting the end of our bed.

"Err.," she makes a sound of uncertainty, though the look in her eye is playful.

"I guess it's a good thing I love you Scaramouche," I tell her as I guide her down on the bed, following her closely.

"A very good thing," she laughs with her arms around my neck, keeping me from moving away from her.

"Even if it is one-sided," I comment, sliding a hand under her shirt, tickling her as I do so.

"Mmm, I love you too Figgy," she finally tells me, her eyes locked to mine and I finally lower my head to kiss her half-parted lips, leading us to enjoy our 'make-up sex' as Madonna had once called it, continuously.


	5. Don't Try Suicide

Oh it's been awhile! And oh I'm so excited to finally post this! It's fun, it's edgy, it's whiny….it's completely stereotypical…it's emo Galileo! (insert crowd: ahhh!)…It's also been a long week lol

So housekeeping;

As I said. This is completely stereotypical. With the help of my beta reader and friend from a-far (and her sister), I tried to take every possible emo stereo type and compact into one in-your-face one shot. I didn't write it to be mean. I didn't write it to hate. I wrote it in fun. So if anyone's going to flame me for it, I'm going to laugh and tell you that life's too short to take it that seriously. Jump on a plane and get yourself to Las Vegas.

Also as mentioned, shout out to CrayolaxSmiles for beta-ing. For getting me going on this while I was visiting at my moms and dying with some head cold, stranded on her couch for the duration of my stay, itching to write. And for giving me the stats on the emo lifestyle and inserting her own kick-in-the-trousers comments. Also shout out to her sister, for giving us both even more insight on the emo lifestyle. SXE (that's it, right?)

That being said. Please drop me a review. This was fun to write and I enjoy re-reading from time to time. Thanks!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to We Will Rock You, minus the merch I've obtained from the show, I don't own Taking Back Sunday or the song Cute without the E, which is mentioned below.

* * *

I now give you:

Don't Try Suicide: from the album: The Game

_"I'm just a musical prostitute, my dear!"_

_Freddie Mercury_

* * *

"Don't you just _feel _their pain?" a skinny guy with jet black hair commented as he played his most recent illegal download for Galileo on his computer.

"It's good. Yeah…" Galileo nodded his head, trying to look unaffected -rule number four- as they sat in his darkened room, with the sounds of the 21st century band, Taking Back Sunday, playing through the speakers.

"Here, I went out, found these for you." another underweight, although blond haired boy, spoke as he tossed Galileo a pair of black and white, scuffed up, Chuck Taylors. Not wanting to seem as though he actually _cared_ about Galileo, he added, "They're too big for me or Hawthorne."

"Thanks…"

"Yeah… so, I think we're gonna bounce… and tell that girlfriend of yours to stop yelling at us, would you? She's kind of annoying," Hawthorne mused as he stood up, Thursday immediately following suit. They didn't even bother to wait for a response as they left Galileo alone with his music.

"What were _they_ doing in here?" Scaramouche raised an eyebrow disapprovingly as she shut the door behind the dark duo.

"Hawthorne had a new song for me, you wouldn't understand…"

"For Christ's sake, will you stop saying that?" she cursed, making a face as she approached Galileo. She proceeded, using a low, moaning voice that could only be a parody of the one he had recently adopted,"'You wouldn't _understand_, Scaramouche! You're not deep enough to feel my _pain_! The world hates me! Look at me; I'm so sad and _emotional_!' Snap the fuck out of it Galileo!"

"Did you _need _something?" Galileo sneered, ignoring her stabs at him, rubbing at the scabs on his wrists.

"Yeah, actually, I want my boyfriend back."

"I'm right here," he answered, his voice conveying his confusion as to her request.

"Okay, no, you don't quite understand. Allow me to rephrase that. I want _my_ boyfriend back, the guy who used to sing, and laugh, not whine and cry. What happened to the dreamer? To Shagileo Gigolo?"

"Is that all you want from me? Music and sex?" he looked at her, trying to decide whether it would be better to look aghast or nonchalant. Opting for a cross between the two, Scaramouche just thought he looked constipated, as he moaned, "God Scaramouche, there is _so_ much more to me."

"No, Galileo, that's not _all_ I want from you… though I've got to tell you that some of both would be nice. You haven't had a dream in months and…honestly now, can you even _remember_ the last time we had sex? I can! It was over a month ago!"

"Oh Scaramouche…" he sighed, choosing to ignore her second point, "I do still have the dreams; I just don't go around telling everyone." Noticing how unimpressed she seemed by this, he added, "I've written them down though."

"Well show me, why don't you?" she raised her eyebrows, challenging him, "Maybe we can do a show soon?"

"No…I, I write it in my notebook, with my _other_ stuff," he stammered nervously, grabbing for said notebook and clutching it tightly to his chest, keeping it from her view.

"What other stuff? That poetry crap I heard Thursday talking about?"

"Whatever, Scaramouche."

"So you let Thursday read your stuff but you won't let me?" Scaramouche snapped, trying not to hide the fact that she was really a little hurt, "And don't you _dare _tell me I won't understand."

Galileo chose not to respond to this, mostly because she had just called him on his trump card-response, and decided to end the conversation there, standing up to exit. Scaramouche was not pleased, "Where are you going?

"I just… need to be alone," Galileo told her stoically, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Wait! Figgy!" Scaramouche called after him, following him out to the hall.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry. I just… I miss you," she tried a different, softer approach as she walked closer to him, taking his hand in hers.

"I'm right here, baby," he promised her, leaning down to give her a short kiss. She took full advantage of this, immediately deepening the kiss, snaking her arms around his neck to keep him from pulling away. Feeling him respond to her, she moved them back into their bedroom and towards the bed, smiling when she heard his notebook drop to the floor.

_And will you tell all your friends_

_You've got your gun to my head_

_This all was only wishful thinkin'_

_This all was only wishful thinkin'_

Scaramouche could hear the whiny music that had been left playing but tried to block it out since at that moment Galileo had fallen back onto the bed with her. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he wasn't protesting as she climbed on top of him. Breaking their kiss she moved down his body, letting her hands go to work on his studded belt.

"Whoa…wait…" Galileo stalled her movements, abruptly pulling the hand that had slipped into his pants out, before she could go any further.

"Oh my _God_!" Scaramouche rolled off of him, groaning in frustration.

"Scaramouche...I'm straight-edge!" he exclaimed with a whine as he re-buckled his belt, watching as she sat up on the other side of the bed, turning her back to him, "We've been through this before..."

"Unbelievable Figgy. Just…unbelievable," Scaramouche muttered, pushing herself up from the bed. She shook her head as she walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

xxxxxxxxxx h4rÐ(0r3 7r419h73Ð93 3\/0. h4rÐ(0r3 7r419h73Ð93 3\/0. h4rÐ(0r3 7r419h73Ð93 3\/0. xxxxxxxxxxx

"Ahem. Galileo?" Scaramouche raised an eyebrow as she watched her boyfriend shuffle through the doors a few hours later, and head straight for the darkest corner, in the very back of the room, still clutching his precious little notebook.

"What?…Oh…hey guys," Galileo stopped and turned around to find his friends all sitting together. He blinked nervously, another new habit he'd picked up as he glanced at them…some on the couches, others on chairs, all, he noticed, looking worrisome.

"Why don't you come and sit down, ol' buddy, ol' pal?" Pop offered with an eerie smile.

"Okay?" Galileo looked around anxiously, but then remembered he should be _unaffected._ Tossing his long androgynous bangs from his eyes he made his way to what he assumed was his seat between Oz and a nervous-looking Scaramouche. Everyone appeared a bit on edge, watching his every move it seemed. "What's going on?"

"Umm…" Scaramouche stalled, looking down at her hand, which Galileo had grasped in his own before looking up at Burton for help.

"See Galileo, this right here, what you're now involved in, it's what they used to call an intervention…" Burton began to explain.

"A what?" Galileo interrupted, alarm coursing through his whole body, as he quickly tensed up. Oz caught this and grabbed for his arm to keep him from bolting, rubbing soothing circles on his back, while Scaramouche remained edgy, her hand limp in his.

Burton cleared his throat before continuing, "An intervention… It's what friends do when they think a friend needs help."

"Oh! Right, so who're we helping?" Galileo asked innocently, immediately relaxing.

"You, Galileo! It's _you_ who needs the help," Scaramouche snapped, pulling her hand away from him as she stood up and crossed her arms.

"What did we talk about?" Burton nudged her reproachfully with a slight whine, trying to keep the plan on track.

"We hear you crying at night," Alanis blurted out, unable to control herself and completely voiding Burton's feeble attempt at the casual approach.

"Listening to depressing music, by _yourself_!" Clay continued off Alanis' point. Clearly a more aggressive approach was more to the Bohemians' liking.

"Guys!" Burton tried to interrupt.

"Whatever. I don't do that," Galileo interrupted, denying the accusations, while his eyes darted quickly across his friends, causing them to throw out more charges.

"We found Turner's lost pair of skinny jeans in your closet!"

"And where's your leather jacket? You haven't worn it in ages!"

"I-I lost it?" Galileo offered lamely.

"Funny how it ended up in the trash…" Shania commented as she pulled the jacket from beside her on the couch and threw it at him.

"And what's with the haircut? Who gave you _that_?" Clay asked, referring to his pin straight hair, which had been parted to the side, covering his eyes.

"I did!" Galileo defended.

"Clearly, cause none of us would have done it." Scaramouche rolled her eyes. The new haircut was clearly not a turn-on in her books.

"Galileo Figaro!" Oz gasped suddenly, holding his arm in her hands.

"What!?" he looked at her, alarmed by her sudden cry. His heart sank and his eyes bulged when he realized where she was looking, and he jerked his arm away from her.

"Nah man…." Pop shook his head in denial, having seen the skinny red lines that marked his arm before he could hide it.

"What the hell?" was the general comment to arise from the Bohemians who saw his arm.

"What? What'd he do?" Clay stood up on tip-toe, trying to peer over the others' heads to get a better look, much like a child trying to see the live squirrels find their hidden nuts on a virtual class trip.

"Sit down!" Madonna barked at him, quite effectively since he immediately sat down and -more importantly- settled down.

"Where on _earth_ did you pick that up?" Oz asked softly as she tried to press on with the intervention.

"Pick what up?" Galileo mumbled, avoiding making eye contact with her as he feigned innocence. He suddenly wished he had worn his long-sleeved hoodie so he could pull the sleeves over his hands.

"_Where _did you learn that from, Figgy?" Scaramouche repeated the question slowly, her voice stern and unnerving, demanding Galileo's attention and honest answer.

"Hawthorne…" Galileo admitted quietly, his head down.

"I was wondering why he hadn't graced us with his presence..." Burton commented as he looked amongst the Bohemians, almost as though the Prince of Darkness would suddenly appear.

"I never did like him..." another Bohemian spoke up as they began to gossip with one another.

"What did he learn from Hawth?" Clay asked cluelessly, still not having seen the cuts.

"What else did he tell you to do?" Burton asked tersely once he was done looking at the others.

"N-Nothing." Galileo twitched, clearly uncomfortable as he rubbed at his wrists.

"Stop that," Oz swatted at his hands.

"Why did you cut yourself, man?" Pop asked in awe.

"Just because…" Galileo mumbled, much like a stubborn child.

"Because _why_?" Scaramouche spat.

"You wouldn't know, none of you! You don't understand me!" Galileo cried, pushing Oz away from him as he stood up. As he scurried out of the room, he wailed, "No one understands me!"

"Well then! That went over well." Scaramouche scoffed as the Bohemians remained silent after the dramatic exit of their Dreamer.

"Well maybe if you'd have stuck with the plan…" Burton chided as everyone began to go about their own business. The intervention was clearly over for the time being.

"The plan –_your­_ plan- was stupid. It wasn't going to get us anywhere!" Scaramouche argued.

"What, and you snapping at him got us everywhere?"

"It got us somewhere! …and what the hell was with you coddling him?" Scaramouche questioned, turning to Oz.

"He was about to bolt as soon as Burton mentioned the _word_ intervention. Someone had to do something," Oz defended herself calmly, picking at the leather jacket Galileo had left behind.

"And of course it _had_ to be you."

"Well it obviously wasn't going to be you."

"What the _hell _is that supposed to mean!?" Scaramouche snapped, grabbing the jacket away from her friend.

"Oh come _on_. You couldn't sit next to him for a minute without moving away. Tension much?" Oz laughed, knowing exactly why she was being attacked.

"What the hell would you know about that?"

"Haven't heard much noise coming from your room lately," Oz hinted with a satisfied smirk as Scaramouche's face contorted with anger.

She took a deep breath, composing herself, and managed, "Trust me, that's not on my doing."

"Oh we can tell," Clay rolled his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up," Scaramouche snapped at him, breaking her fit with Oz for a moment, only to turn back to her, ready to keep going.

"Hey! Okay. Oz, back off. Someone here _clearly_ needs to get laid…but until then, Scaramouche, take it out on someone else - someone _not_ in this room," Burton interrupted the spat before damage could be done.

"I do not _need_ anything," Scaramouche huffed, crossing her arms across her chest as the Bohemians shared an exaggerated eye roll.

"Honey, you're like, clinically sexually frustrated." Oz laughed sympathetically.

"I am not!"

"Right…and the dreamers not emo." Oz teased.

"Wait. He's not emo; he's just trying to be, Hawthorne and that Thursday kid have been all over him-" Burton began to explain, but as usual, was cut off.

"Ya'think? Every time I go into our room either the three of them are sitting there, in the dark, with that stupid whiny music playing through the speakers, not talking. Just sitting there, sometimes writing in those damn notebooks. And if those morons he likes to call friends aren't there, he's just sitting there by himself, doing the same thing. Although, the music's not always playing when he's by himself, thank God," Scaramouche bitched.

"They're trying to change him; unfortunately he's trying to learn, God knows why…" Pop sighed, taking a long swig of his beer.

"He doesn't even drink anymore! What the fuck is up with that?" a random Bohemian thought out loud.

"I heard he's gone 'straightcore'…or something…" another one answered, looking confused. The others around him just blinked, equally bemused.

"I say we kick Thursday and Hawthorne out. Without them, he doesn't have anyone to learn this crap from." Burton suggested, taking advantage of the momentary silence.

"If we kick them out, he might go with them." Oz screwed up her face in remorse.

"Or worse." Pop sighed, shaking his head at the thought.

"Worse?" Burton looked between the two.

"Yeah, depending on what they've told him, or what they know even, he could be at risk of killing himself," Pop clarified, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Suicide?" Burton looked baffled.

"Okay, he's not _that_ out of it." Scaramouche defended her boyfriend.

"No, emo's used to follow this thing called the glamour of suicide, and they'd make it all poetic and try to make it 'mean more.'" Oz explained, surprised when Scaramouche began to leave the room, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go stop the idiot before he does something even stupider than he already has," Scaramouche explained curtly over her shoulder, leaving the door open behind her, knowing she would be followed.

"No, that's not tight _enough_," Scaramouche heard Hawthorne whine from her bedroom, "Oh great! Now it's all _knotted._ _Why?_"

"What the hell is that for?" Scaramouche demanded angrily once she entered the room, horrified at finding Thursday tying a striped tie around Galileo's neck…and not in the fashion sense.

"You wouldn't-" Thursday scoffed.

"I swear to god, finish that sentence with the word 'understand' and_ I_ will personally use that tie on _you_." Scaramouche threatened, satisfied when he backed away from her boyfriend.

"What the…?" Oz trailed off once she had caught up and seen what was going on, "Okay, this is enough. You two. Out."

"What?" Thursday looked panicked as she pointed to Hawthorne and himself.

"You heard me. You and Mr. Ball-of-fucking-sunshine over there can go find somewhere else to live. We're kicking you out," Oz clarified, nodding towards Hawthorne with her arms folded across her chest.

"You're gonna give him another reason to commit? Smart move." Hawthorne smarted.

"_Another _reason?" Scaramouche looked from Galileo to Hawthorne incredulously.

"He's not gonna do anything. Are you, Galileo?" Oz turned to him for his answer.

"What's it to you? You don't understand me!" He whined, full force, after a glare from both of his dejected friends when he didn't answer right away.

"Not like us," Hawthorne told them, his voice monotone and attitude impassive.

"Yeah!" Thursday chimed in, earning a glare from Hawthorne.

"Oh give me a break, you're no worse off then the rest of us. Galileo, remove the tie," Oz rolled her eyes, tired of their 'poor me' behavior.

"Keep it on; come with us. We understand you and your _pain_, right Galileo?" Hawthorne countered Oz's request, showing no emotion when Galileo took a step towards him.

"Yeah, right?" Thursday mimicked, earning himself another glare from his elder.

"Right," Galileo nodded slowly, torn by the decision in front of him.

"You've _got _to be kidding me," Scaramouche rolled her eyes, stopping Galileo's movement towards his friends with what could only be described as a glare of death.

"No joke," Hawthorne leered, crossing his arms, as if that movement somehow enhanced his statement.

"None at all," Thursday added, following Hawthorne and crossing his arms.

"Well…" Galileo gulped, pouting at the stress put on him as he looked between his girlfriend and his two new friends.

"He's not so sure boys…" Scaramouche smirked, clearly pleased when he trailed off, his movement towards the boys at full halt.

"He is," Hawthorne sneered without emotion, "Tell her, Galileo."

"Yea, tell her!" Thursday went again with the input, which wasn't helping Hawthorne's temper.

"I…yeah. You…yeah…don't, understand me?" Galileo stammered with a blush.

"Don't I?" Scaramouche asked him seductively, playing into his weakness with ease as she moved to stand beside him.

"No," Galileo shook his head so his outgrown bangs flew wildly, surprised when she ran her fingers down his arm, across his scars, and took his hand in hers.

"Well…if you ask me, I understand you well enough to…" She smirked, watching as Thursday and Hawthorne strained to hear her finish her sentence, which was whispered for only Galileo to hear.

"What's she-" Thursday whispered frantically to Hawthorne, who shushed him as he watched Galileo blush and duck his head.

"What can I say? The girl knows me." Galileo shrugged with a smile on his face as Scaramouche nodded for Oz to see the other two boys out.

"What!? But??" Thursday protested as Oz hurried them out of the room, Hawthorne remaining silent as he tried to appear 'unaffected'. For once, it didn't work, his face turning red with anger and embarrassment.

"Bye boys!" Scaramouche called to the closing door, giggling when Galileo pushed her back onto the bed, pulling him with her, using the tie that remained around his neck, more then ready to enjoy their fandango time, again and again.


	6. Scandal part 1

A/N: Hello everyone...my it's been a long time since I've had anything to add here.

So, this was supposed to be just another one shot to my menagerie here, but I couldn't stop writing. So I'll post it up in parts because it would be too overwhelming to post it all at once. There will probably be 5 installments in total. Which I guess I _could_ just make a new story listing for, but..well...I just don't want to. This was written to the title of the song Scandal and therefor belongs with my other work that follows the same guideline. (for lack of a better word)

Major thanks to crayolaxsmiles for working with me through this and working her beta magic. I've had this written for a really long time now and finally got down to fixing it up to get it posted. So enjoy and I'll be back to post more once it's fixed up and edited.

* * *

"This tour will be bigger than bigness itself. It will make Ben Hur look like the Muppets."_~ Roger Taylor ~_

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Scandal: from the album The Miracle

**August, 2310**

_Galileo Fiagro, seen out with a mysterious woman last night, was absolutely on fire during his underground show at the El Mo. Sadly, he didn't stick around for an encore, despite the screaming and chanting of his fervent fans. With those sounds coming from his dressing room though, this reporter, for one, doubts that he heard a byte of it. Looks like someone was impressed with his performance, on and off stage… _

"Oh my god," she moaned lowly, "Figgy..." He had her pinned up against the wall, her legs wound tightly around his waist, squeezing gently against his sides. Currently, he was assaulting her neck with his mouth, his hands roughly roaming her body as he grinded against her.

"Shut up," he snarled at her before covering her mouth with his and then carrying her across the room, sitting her on the pool table in a way that was more than a little aggressive.

"Worried someone's gonna hear?" she teased hotly into his ear, tugging on the lobe with her teeth, smirking when his grip tightened on her thighs.

"Oh I hope they hear," He growled in return, pushing his forehead against hers as they stared into each other's eyes with such intensity, you could practically feel the room getting hotter and hotter. They were both panting heavily, but he gave them no time to rest as he pressed his lips against hers again, lowering his hands to undo her skirt.

"Mmm, no time for that..." she interrupted his actions, choosing instead to just hike her skirt up higher on her waist. He was watching her in pure lust, raising an eyebrow when she began adeptly working on his own jeans, her fingers nimbly undoing his belt and then moving on to his zip.

"God I love you," he sighed deeply, reaching his hand behind her head, cupping it at the nape of her neck. His fingers wound strands of her hair tightly around them as he pulled her in for another kiss. His pants fell down to his knees then, as she let go of them, moving her hands instead to rest on his chest as she allowed herself to get lost in his kiss.

"I… Love you… Too…" she whispered to him between kisses, her head rolling back when he moved down her throat with his mouth. He pushed her further back on the table then and crawled on top of her, never breaking the contact his lips had with her body.

"Where the hell have you been?" my manager, and mother, shrieked when I entered my east side flat. Her eyes blazed as she looked at me, making their angry green fire almost tangible. For once, this didn't scare me, and I was completely unaffected by her. Honestly, I was too exhausted to be feeling much of anything right now.

"I had some things to take care of. Calm down mother," I rolled my eyes, dropping my keys loudly on the kitchen counter and going to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

"You look like you just got out of bed. Were you out in public with your hair like that?" she asked, her face contorted in repulsion, as she jumped from one topic to another. She was clearly unsure of which topic to tackle first, so she clearly figured to go for all of them at once.

"No one saw me." I promised tiredly, looking in the mirror in my hallway. She was right though, I noted. My hair really was a mess, while my make-up was smeared, and right there, peaking out from my top, on my chest, was the marking and tell-tale sign of where I had been. Shit.

"You better not have been with that boy," she scorned from my white micro suede sofa. Even though her tone was now much calmer than it had been only moments earlier, I was sure it was just a small lull. She was just looking for something to blow up about, and was sure that she was on the right track to finding it…which she most definitely was. But then, there was no way in hell I was going to let her know that.

"I don't know why you would assume that mother. After all, you forbid us to see each other," I feigned innocence, taking a seat at the other end of my couch, wincing at the sting of a pulled muscle. Clearly, in situations such as this, honesty was not the best policy.

"Figaro! Your show ended hours ago! Where have you been!?" a loud gruff voice questioned when I entered my apartment.

"Out," I replied shortly, throwing myself across my black leather couch to relax.

"Who was she?" Those were the first words out of his mouth when he entered the living room and took in my appearance. I sighed. He'd never been one to beat around the bush, and he was clearly not about to start now.

"What are you talking about? Who?" I was already tired of dealing with the guy, better known as my manager, who went by the name Frank.

"What am I talking about? Everything about you right now screams I've just been fucked. Hard. Who was it?"

"No one..." There was no point in even grazing the subject, "Are you here for a reason?" I was not in the mood for this right now. At all. The only thing I was really in the mood for was to just sleep…and, you know, maybe have a few drinks…but mostly sleep.

"She better be no one. If I find out you're been running around with _her_ again…"

"You'll what? Tell me Frank. What will _you_ personally do to me?" I snapped, my voice harsh. I had been taking this bullshit for too long. Who did he think he was? My father? No! He was my manager. My personal life was none of his business and I was sick and tired of him sticking that big nose of his into it…Fuck. I wished he would just butt out.

Immediately, Frank changed his tune. He pointed out then, his voice quieter and more gentle than before, and his head cocked to the side, a demure gesture demonstrating a hope that I would understand, "Figaro. My man. Look around. We've built too much, gone too far for you to blow it all away for some girl who you knew 2 years ago. A girl, who need I remind you, will do no wrong for mommy dearest." Obviously, he knew me well enough to notice I was on edge, and was trying to appease me… Do the whole "catch more flies with honey than water" thing. It was working. Right now, I was way too tired to put up a decent fight.

So, I sighed in defeat, recognizing that he was more or less right. There was no way we could be together like we once were… Dismissing that, I lifted my head slightly to look at him better, "Whatever Frank. What did you want?"

"I got you a spot in the summer music festival. It wasn't hard. You're hot shit. You have a photo shoot for promo ads Thursday at 3. All you have to do is get yourself there. You can still do that, right?" Frank raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. Even though he'd ended with a question, it was mutually understood that it was rhetorical. I was never asked if I wanted to do these things; I was always just expected to.

I grunted in response and Frank left shortly there after, leaving details on my kitchen counter before slamming the door loudly behind him, and I couldn't stop myself from chucking a used glass at said door.

To say he was frustrated would be an understatement. Things had been pretty much the same for the past two and a half years. After the breakdown of Killer Queen, that night at Wembley, Scaramouche and Galileo had quickly risen to fame. At first they performed together, a few of the now nameless Bohemians playing on the drums and bass, but then the offers started coming in. That was when Scaramouche and Galileo began fighting. To add to everything, Galileo began dabbling in the drink a little more often than Scaramouche thought necessary. He claimed it helped him. Helped him to remember lyrics, helped him to remember tunes, helped him to perform, helped him to get sleep even. He used any excuse to make it sound reasonable that he indulged in more than a few beers here and there.

When his attitude changed, seemingly overnight, Scaramouche knew he had found a new substance to abuse. He was quick to irritate, quick to judge but always full of this amazing energy. It wouldn't be fair to say he was a drug addict; he was a user, sure, but not quite an addict… not at first at least.

"_Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandaaaango?" Galileo sung, off key, as he flipped on the light, illuminating the previously dark room. He barely registered that he received no reply as he stumbled into the room loudly, humming an unrecognizable tune. _

"_Do you _**know**_ what time it is?" Scaramouche asked angrily when she felt the bed dip behind her._

"_I think the better question would be if I cared,"hHe answered smugly, pulling her body towards his, before he kissed her neck, biting at her ear._

"_Fuck Galileo," Scaramouche sighed as she flipped onto her back._

"_Yes, puhlease," he drawled, not hearing the frustration in her voice as he climbed on top of her._

"_Get off of me Figgy," she told him tiredly, in no mood to deal with him…especially in this state he was in._

"_Hows about if I get off, _**on**_ you?" he smirked, running his hands up her sides and under her shirt._

"_You're insufferable, you know that?" Scaramouche shook her head, finding herself unable to stifle a laugh at his attempt to bed her before she pushed him off of her, getting up from the bed to turn off the light he had forgotten was on._

"_That's a good thing, right baby?" he furrowed his brow as he remained laying on his side, his head propped up on his arm as he watched her._

"_No. It's not," she told him curtly as she returned to her bed, lying on her side to face him, watching his actions curiously._

"_No?"_

"_What are you on Galileo Figaro?" Scaramouche sighed in remorse, pushing his outgrown bangs away from his face._

"_Mmm, I _**want**_ to be on you." he smirked again, pushing a kiss to her forehead and wrapping an arm around her._

"_Not with all those clothes you're not." she smiled then, knowing it would be easier to play along for now. She was sure that eventually, he would grow tired, lose his high and pass out. In the meantime though…_

"_That can be fixed," he grinned proudly as he climbed out of the bed and struggled to strip himself of his clothes._

"_Having some trouble?"_

"_I'm fine," he growled, not appreciating her mocking him, before he kicked off his boxers, the last of his clothing, and returned to her side._

"_So I've been told."_

"_Oh yeah?" Galileo grunted as he began to assault her neck with rough kisses, alternating between sucking and licking. "By who?"_

"_Mmm, _you_ mainly…" Scaramouche teased, smiling when her comment caused him to pause his actions and look at her. "What?"_

"_You're such a bitch," he told her as he took her shirt in his hands, gripping it with an odd firmness for someone so undeniably high. His eyes flashing, he literally ripped it off of her with one aggressive tug, tearing it from the low v-neck down._

"_Shit Figgy!" Scaramouche cursed loudly as, for the first time ever, she flinched in fear of him and the hint of violence in his actions._

"_It's okay. I like it," he smirked, oblivious or uncaring of her fear, as he lowered his head to play with her newly exposed chest. As his mouth kissed her top, his hand had made its way lower. As he slipped it easily between her legs, he could feel how hot she was already. If she was being perfectly honest, she was actually kind of enjoying herself now… The way his lips felt on her chest, and his fingers on her thighs, made her forget her previous anxiety, and she let out a soft moan…but her pleasure was cut short._

"_Figgy?" Scaramouche called, confused, as she snapped out of her haze when she was suddenly left horny and cold on the bed._

"_One sec," Galileo mumbled over his shoulder before slipping into their bathroom and closing the door. She tried to shrug off his sudden disappearance, and let out a small sigh as she waited for him. After a few minutes though, it sunk in that his break was abnormally long…_

"_Jesus…" Scaramouche gasped when she entered the bathroom, her boredom and curiosity having grown too much for her to contain._

"_I told you one sec!" Galileo growled as he tried to cover up his mess, hide it from her view._

"_What the hell Figgy!?" she shrieked, hurt and pissed off…no, __**furious**__, at the sight in front of her. Her sudden increase in volume caused Galileo to jump, dropping his now closed bag of 'goodies'. It smacked against the floor with a thud almost as startling as Scaramouche's cry, and his eyes widened. Whether it was in horror of Scaramouche finding out his secret, or of having possibly damaged his goods was uncertain. _

"_I…I…" he struggled to find a word, any word, to explain himself, but instead he looked at her and then to where her eyes were fixated._

"_Shit," she cursed softly, grabbing his arm, which was now covered in blood, and pulled him towards her._

_He looked down at his arm, bleeding and covered in trace marks, most of which were fresh from earlier in the day…and from just a few moments before. He watched as Scaramouche took a cloth to his wounds, caring for him lovingly, but he could tell, even in his high, she had had enough. He knew what he was doing, he knew what he was doing to her, but he couldn't stop. This wasn't exactly to say that he'd really tried very hard. He liked the feeling of the high. It somehow made everything better, more meaningful, so why should he have to stop anyway? He tried to pull away from her then, away from her judgment. He didn't need her to judge him and he definitely didn't need her to help him. He was the fucking Dreamer; all he needed were his dreams._

Shortly after that, it had come to the point that Scaramouche had just up and left. She apologized to the Bohemians, packed up her stuff, said a few choice words to Galileo and never looked back. She ended up taking up her mother's offer to go solo.

Galileo had soon left the Bohemians behind as well. Frank had offered Galileo his shot at fame back when everyone was still together, but he had never wanted to leave them; he couldn't leave them. Now with Scaramouche gone, he was angry and alone and he wanted a change. On top of all that was the way everyone was blaming him for their downfall, saying that he was the reason they'd lost what they'd worked so hard for…and he was sick of it. So he was the problem? Fine. He'd leave. He'd be better off without them anyway…right? Right…he hoped.

Surprisingly they both rose quickly in the charts, battling only each other for the top spot, as Computer Recorded Anodyne Pop faded and their powerful rock ballads took over Planet Mall. The whole world was unknowingly witnessing their epic break-up through their music. Their songs at first were angry, then depressing and sad, and eventually accepting, a bit more on the happy side. Oblivious to the deeper meaning behind the music, people just smiled and bobbed their heads in time to the beat, simply enjoying the music. It was probably better that way anyway.

Their rise in fame was a little more than different though, as Scaramouche began to enjoy the more expensive lifestyle, surrounding herself with interesting things, antiques from the 20th century. Galileo, on the other hand, was the rocker of the night, playing in the shadier venues where his fans, and he himself, felt more at home. They had both bought rather nice living accommodations, but in very different environments. Scaramouche had opted for a chic and rather large flat in the Upper East Side, while Galileo's bachelor pad was nice, a warm and cozy kind of place, which was mostly thanks to the housekeeper he'd hired to keep it feeling more like a home than yet another shady bar.

It was Galileo who made the first move in reconciliation. He had heard through Oz where Scaramouche had been living and, after a few drinks, one warm summer night, he finally got the courage to make use of the information.

"Figgy? What are you - H-How?" Scaramouche stammered in shock when she opened the door to her apartment to find me in the hallway. She was wearing only a tight black sweater and a small pair of blue shorts, while her hair was pulled back and she had no make up on. Clearly, she hadn't been expecting company.

"Are you free?" I said the first thing that came to my mind. It wasn't what I had planned as my first words to her, no I practiced what I was going to say for hours, days even, once I found out where she lived, and these were not those words.

"What?" She looked at me weirdly, still comprehending my appearance I assumed.

"Are you free? Can we go somewhere?" I was speaking before my brain could catch up but she agreed none the less. I stood in her front hallway while she changed into a pair of jeans and a ripped up vintage t-shirt, and within five minutes we were waiting for the elevator.

"So, where are we going?" Scaramouche asked timidly, looking at me expectantly. I didn't help her out much though, as I simply shrugged with a glance in her direction, before standing back to allow her to step into the elevator first.

I could feel her watching me, no doubt taking in the visible abuse my body had taken from the drugs and alcohol. She was obviously trying to figure out whether or not I was still using them. I knew though, that without asking me straight up, there was no way she would assume anything but the worst.

"Didn't really think that far ahead." I told her honestly and I caught her rolling her eyes.

"Maybe this was a bad idea."

"No! Scaramouche, please. I just want to talk…I miss you," I admitted the last part quietly but I knew she'd heard me just fine. The doors opened to let us out on the ground floor and she walked out first, stopping outside on the steps to let me lead her to my vehicle.

"You drive a bike now?" Scaramouche asked, stopping a few steps behind when she noticed the motorcycle I was approaching.

"Is that a problem?" I questioned, holding back a smirk as I held out a helmet for her to wear.

"No…I just, thought you hated them," she told me, grabbing the helmet with typical Scaramouche attitude.

I could feel her watching me again as I lifted the bike off its stand and started it up with a kick. I tried to hold up my attitude and demeanor as confident, while inside I was shaking and nervous, craving a hit to mellow me out.

She pulled on her helmet and approached the bike, pausing, probably contemplating whether this really was a good idea or not. I offered my arm to her as leverage and, as if that was all she needed, she hopped on the bike. I smiled slightly as I felt her straddling the seat and my hips. I couldn't help but notice how…right…this felt. I didn't want it to end. So, with her legs and arms wrapped tightly around me, I may have extended our trip a little longer then necessary, going everywhere and nowhere at all. Admittedly though, I wasn't really surprised when we finally ended up at the old Heartbreak Hotel.

"Do you think anyone we know is here?" Scaramouche asked slowly after I parked the bike and we had taken off our helmets.

"Doubt it; Oz said everyone's kind of gone their own ways now." I told her, pausing to look back when I didn't hear her footsteps following me to the door. Something was wrong. "What?"

"Is it weird that I'm scared?" Scaramouche looked at me vulnerably, remaining by the motorcycle.

"Depends what you're scared of," I shrugged cryptically, trying to keep myself at least semi normal.

"Just being back here. It's been awhile," she looked about the building, avoiding my eyes.

"It's fine. Now c'mon," I rushed her, wanting to get inside as soon as possible. My eyes urging her on, I held the door open for her, as though the Heartbreak were just waiting for her to enter.

They made their way into the Heartbreak, surprised to find it just as they had last seen it…except for one crucial change. It was deserted now….empty….hollow. All that was left of the wild times that this place had once seen were the memories, and the old posters covering the dirty walls.

Scaramouche had been looking and reminiscing through some of the scribbling on the walls when Galileo came to stand behind her. It was then that she came across the carving of their names in the wall. It was totally lame, they both knew, but at the time they were so happily in love that it just felt like something they absolutely had to do. Lowering her eyes with a small sigh, Scaramouche turned around, only to find herself in very close quarters with Galileo. And it was then that Galileo decided to make a move, a move which Scaramouche herself was seconds away from making.

Together they stumbled back towards the stairs, shedding clothing as they rediscovered one another's bodies.

Nothing was said as they pulled their clothing back on, nor was anything discussed before, during or after the drive back to Scaramouche's apartment. It was a mutual silence though, desired by the both of them. It was almost as if they were complete strangers, having used each other only for sex. If only…

"What was this?" I asked after I turned around, stopping on the steps in front of my building.

"What do you want it to be?" he answered cryptically, almost as if he didn't want the ball in his court. I assumed he figured he had made the first move and he wanted me to make the second….but I wasn't so sure I had one to make either. I gave it a try anyway, thinking it over…

"I don't know," I admitted after taking a moment to reflect. Things would be much too complicated to really make anything of the night.

"Well when you figure it out, my number never changed," he told me with a smirk before riding off into the dark night.

_Could a reunion be in the works for the Dreamer and his bad-assed babe? _

_Galileo Figaro and Scaramouche were seen leaving her apartment late last night, speeding into the night on Figaro's motorcycle. The two returned a few hours later only for Scaramouche to be left to spend the rest of the night alone. Is this duo back in business or was this just a late night rendez-vous? _


	7. Scandal part 2

A/N: I had every intention on updating sooner then this. WAY sooner then this. As I mentioned in my last note, this little ditty is already written…the remaining parts just need to be edited and fixed up. So really I have no excuse for not posting this sooner, other then life's a bitch and gets in the way of my writing and updating time. I didn't even have my wonderful beta read over this one, that's right no second person editing, yikes! But it's midnight and she's not online and I just want to post this! I still love her regardless and I miss the little extra's I know she would have added.

So please enjoy and I will try to get another part up in the near future. Thanks for holding in there for those who came back for a read. And thank you always for the positive reviews.

Oh! Also, you'll notice I jump between POV's. You'll get some of Galileo's thoughts and some of Scaramouche's for different scenes. And then, for those moments that involve some sexin I keep it third person. Sorry if it causes confusion but I guess I like to test my writing abilities sometimes.

On with the show….

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Scandal: from the album The Miracle

**(July, 2310)**

Months had passed and I'd never used the number. I was afraid to. Of course I had missed him, but it had been more then two years, we had both changed since we were last together as a couple. He seemed like he had cleaned up, and other then his appearance, he showed no signs of substance abuse. So, instead of confronting the issue and testing the waters, I had buried myself in my music, removing the chance of getting hurt.

It had worked for me though, I was able to record and release two hit singles during that time. It had also apparently thrown Galileo into the studio too, as he had released one single that remained at number one on the charts for weeks, eventually being bumped off by my second single.

Now, five months after our 'meeting' we were both set to perform at the same venue, a concert in the park of sorts where a few of the local "rock stars" were booked to play a free concert, to keep the spirit of live rock alive.

"You know he's here right?" Oz asked me as we sat in my trailer, out of the heat of the summer.

I decided to suddenly focus my attention on my makeup, an attempt at nonchalance. "Who's here?"

"Oh don't pull that bullshit on me. Did you forget that I know what happened and that I do talk to the both of you on a weekly basis?" She reminded me with a raised eyebrow. Bitch.

"Fine. So what?" I huff, sitting down on the couch across from Oz.

"He's looking pretty good…" She trails off with a smirk knowing I would bite, and I do.

"You've seen him already?" My interest was piqued, but of course it was now that someone decided to bother us and is knocking on my door. I threw her an annoyed look.

"Yeah, I caught his sound check." She answered me as I opened the door, revealing none other than our current subject of conversation. "Speak of the devil."

"Hi to you too Oz." Galileo waved sheepishly from the bottom step outside my door before focusing his attention on me. "Can we talk?"

"I'm gonna go see if I can score some free merch, I'll see you two crazy kids later." Oz excused herself, bumping me playfully on the way out the door and smacking Galileo's ass as she passed him. "Break a leg if I don't see you before you go on."

Well Oz was right. Galileo's looking damn good. He was still standing outside so the sun was shining brightly on him, giving him a glow. His hair was at my favorite length, not too long but not short either and he was wearing a fitted white t-shirt and jeans, showing off his recent, positive, weight gain. He looks like he has been working out a lot too, toning his new weight, and I knew I was staring, I couldn't help it.

"So, can we talk?" Galileo repeated, smirking as he noticed me checking him out, biting at my thumb and completely zoned out.

"Yeah, yeah. Actually, you better come in before the manager sees you." I answer quickly, snapping out of my daze and stepping back to let him inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

"You never called." He told me bluntly, and I could hear the hurt in his voice, though at that moment I didn't care to acknowledge it. He was standing in front of me and was almost too tall for the small trailer, which suddenly felt like it didn't have the air conditioner blasting.

"Yeah, I don't, I didn't…I just…" I struggled to find words as I stared at his chest, finding myself closer to him with each jumbled word, until I was inches away from him, finally looking at his eyes, then his lips and then I was kissing him.

He didn't reject her advance, only welcomed it by responding to her kiss, moving his lips against hers. He found himself slightly shocked when he felt her slip him her tongue but didn't hesitate in allowing her access. She liked to be in control, and often made the first advances, when they were together two years ago. She had mellowed out since then, at least judging from their last encounter it would seem that way. But by the way she was now pushing him back towards her bed and pulling at his shirt, he knew he had assumed wrong.

In one quick movement she had his shirt up and over his head, throwing it somewhere to the side. She pushed him back; making him sit down on the bed as she quickly followed him, putting a leg on each side of his, which he readily gripped in support. He reveled in the feel of her small hands frantically exploring his chest as she assaulted his mouth, then his neck, and with another push for him to lie down; she was pressing hot kisses across his chest and then lower. Pausing she sat back on her heels to remove her shirt and when he tried to sit up to help her, she roughly pushed him back down. The only way this was going to happen is if it was on her terms, and she had to have complete control.

Throwing her shirt to the side she continued her journey lower down his body, shimmying her hips until she met his knees and then end of the bed. He made an unspoken offer to move up the bed but she ignored it as she moved off of him and began to remove his jeans, grazing her hand across him and smirking at his groan. After pushing his jeans and boxers down to his ankles she slowly ran her hands back up his legs and to his shoulders, the rest of her following closely behind. Avoiding looking in his eyes she kissed him quickly on his lips and proceeded to place chaste kisses down the rest of his body, increasing the amount when she neared his hips. He laid back and enjoyed her efforts as she alternated using her hands and mouth to please him and before she sent him over the edge he pulled her away from him and flipped them so she was now lying on the bed.

"Hey?" Scaramouche looked up at him, slightly hurt that he had stopped her.

"What? You don't get to have all the fun." He chuckled lightly, brushing her hair from her eyes before kissing her.

"Sally!?" Scaramouche's mother's voice screeched through the trailer a while later, causing Scaramouche to bolt upright from lying in the bed with me.

"Shit… Shit, you need to hide." Scaramouche panicked, throwing the sheet off of her as she scrambled to gather our clothes, pulling her skirt and bra on as she did so.

"Scaramouche, calm down." I whispered, grabbing her by the shoulders once I had pulled my jeans on.

"Calm down!? Are you kidding? She's going to kill me if she sees you here…and without a shirt…shit where is that?" She cursed and pulled out of my grip, beginning to search for my t-shirt. It was slightly humorous.

"I have it, you focus on putting on your own shirt." I told her calmly, pulling my shirt on, watching her look at me before doing the same.

"Oh, okay. Okay." She took in a deep breath. "Now you need to hide somewhere…bathroom?"

"I guess…do I really need to hide?" I looked at her oddly, my eyes shifting between her and the door to the tiny room.

"Uhm yeah! Figgy, if she finds out we've been together, talking even, she'll freak. I don't want to have to deal with that." She told me, wincing when her mother continued to bang on the door.

"Wait, is that why you never called? Because of your mom?" I stopped and asked in the doorway to the bathroom, I knew that was one of the possibilities, but seeing her act this way right now was confirming it.

"We'll talk about it later okay? Just let me deal with her first?" She sighed in frustration, running a hand through her hair.

"Whatever." I put my hands up in mock surrender, trying to play it off.

"Thanks." She gave me a look and a kiss before pushing me further into the tiny bathroom and closing the door, from which inside I could hear her take a breath before opening the door.

"What the hell were you doing?" Scaramouche's mother questioned angrily.

"I was taking a nap, I don't want to be exhausted on stage today, thanks." There was some noise and I sighed as I moved to sit on the edge of the shower.

"Well you're on in 10 minutes," As she said this I moved my arm and sent a bottle of shampoo falling to the floor, luckily landing on the mat which muffled the sound. Her mother heard though. "Do you have someone in here?"

"What? Of course not, something must've fallen off my bed seeing as I was interrupted from my sleep." Scaramouche covered up quickly, atta girl.

"I swear Sally, if you fuck any of this up…just get yourself ready. I'll be waiting backstage and expect you there in five." I rolled my eyes, hearing the door slam shortly thereafter.

"Can I come out now?" I called from my spot, waiting for about a minute before realizing Scaramouche wasn't going to come and free me from my fiberglass hide out.

"Yeah, she's gone. Sorry." She apologized before she opened the door, appearing in front of it.

"You always let her treat you like that?" I ask her, following her to the couch.

"Like what?" She questioned, busying herself with her makeup. She glanced up in the mirror to catch my pointed look and sighed. "She made all of this happen for me. She's been the only person there for me for the past 2 years…"

"So?" I was failing to understand why that made it okay for her mother to treat her like crap.

"So, there's not much I can do or say…it's not like I can do all of this on my own, I need her."

"That's bullshit Scaramouche. And you know it…You know when Oz first told me things were getting like this-"

"Wait you've been talking to Oz about me?! Is that what this is about? Why you randomly decide to show up at my door after more then two years of nothing? And you know what, 'things getting like this?' You're one to fucking talk." Here we go.

I scoffed. "I was wondering how long it was going to take before you brought that up…"

"What did you expect? Did you really think you could just waltz back into my life and everything would be okay, no questions asked? You let it ruin your life!"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but last time I checked, my life is far from ruined." I tried to stay calm. Tried to hold it together.

She shook her head, breaking eye contact to gather her things. "I have to go."

"That's all you have to say?" I stayed unmoving, watching her, expecting more.

"Oh no, I. I have more to say, but I'm on in five minutes, I have to get to the stage."

"And then what? Am I going to see you after?" I asked as she gathered her sunglasses and keys, I guess this is where I should be getting up to leave.

"And then you're going to do your set…" Scaramouche trailed off, opening her door instead of answering my last question.

"And then you're gone again." I stated solemnly, following her out the door, closing it behind me, hearing the lock click.

"I never said that, just, unlike you, I don't make promises I don't know if I can keep." Scaramouche told me sharply as she walked away from me and made her way towards the stage.

Surprisingly, Scaramouche didn't take off again. She watched Galileo sing his songs, noticing the emotion that flowed through his voice, and then waited for him by his trailer when he was done. They didn't get much talking done though as the adrenaline from their sets and fight fueled another couple rounds of the fandango and by the time they had finished they had passed out in Galileo's bed. Scaramouche had woken up soon after the sun had set as it had gotten colder out. Instead of moving under the blankets she gathered her clothes and quietly left his trailer and the venue, and went home, once again avoiding any confrontation.

"Where did you disappear to young lady?" My mother asked, causing me to yelp as I entered my living room.

"I was with a friend, jesus, mom why were you sitting here in the dark?" Was she hoping to catch me doing something? Weirdo.

"I've been waiting for you for hours Sally. Who is this friend of yours?" Interrogation time, this should be fun.

"No one you know." I told her with a tired look.

"You think I don't know who happened to be at the concert today Sally? Tell me that's not who you were with."

"What if I was? So what?" This was probably going to cost me, but I was done caring.

"I will not have you running around with him again, he's no good for you or your image."

"Whatever mother, you don't even know him."

"I may not know him personally but I do know him a little better then your fans know him, and that's enough to tarnish your name. Its one thing to have been tied to him before his, _downfall_, but to go back with him now will pull you into all that gossip. And you may have decided to forget your break up but I haven't and I will not stand to see you like that again." I don't know what to address first, her attacking the only guy I've ever loved, or her moment of humanity in trying to protect me from getting hurt.

"Mom I'm fine." I tell her half heartedly, I'm too tired to fight her opinion right now.

"You might be fine now but he hurt you once, he will hurt you again. You were a mess Sally and who was there to pick up the pieces? I was. Not him, not any of your old friends, no one but me. And I won't do it again, we've worked too hard to get to where we are."

"Nothing's going on. I was with Oz and he showed up…it was awkward and we hardly talked at all." I lied, it was one thing to be dealing with Galileo again, and it was another to deal with him and my mother as they tried to square off against one another through me.

"Good, let's keep it that way. The last thing we need is for him to come in and mess it all up again." This I agree with.

"Right, well I'm wiped from today. Can you see yourself out?"

"Of course dear. Have a good night." And with that she stood up, nose in the air and walked a perfect line to my door, closing it quietly behind her.

"Yea, g'night." I called after her before pushing myself off of the couch just as my phone rang, startling me as it pierced through the silence.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Oz's voice cursed through the phone when I answered it.

I yawned tiredly, making my way to my bedroom to change into a pair of boy shorts and an over sized t-shirt to sleep in. "Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Don't do this to him Scaramouche." I can practically hear her frown.

"Do what? _He _came to_ me_. I didn't hear him stopping to ask where this was going. Hold on a sec." I explained before dropping the phone on the bed so I could change my shirt. "As far as I can tell, we're just having fun."

"Fun!? Ha! We both know that's a lie…He has a show tomorrow night, go talk to him. Before you both end up hurting each other all over again." And with a sigh she hung up, typical Oz fashion, not letting anyone argue against her final word.

_Rock the Park: LIVE was a show not to be missed! The live event of rock is the first of its kind to not be streamed online for the first time in this millennium. Of course those who were lucky and kind enough to upload their own recordings of the show can do so without the fear of being incarcerated, but we all know the big deal for this concert was that no online channel would be streaming the event. The other big news surrounding this concert follows the two main instigators of live rock for this generation themselves. Galileo Figaro and Scaramouche took the same stage, performing at the same venue for the first time in over two years. The two had a messy and very publicized break up in 2308 and through the efforts put forth by both parties management they were able to avoid each other in their personal lives as well as professional. But last night the two came together for the same cause that had brought them together those two short years ago. Live rock n' roll music. Although on the same stage, they were not seen together at the same time, at any point of the event, squashing rumours of the rekindling of their love._


	8. Scandal part 3

A/N: Another update! And it hasn't even been a month since my last one! Thank you for the reviews, I'm happy I still have your attention!

I wrote this so long ago that some parts I really don't remember writing, it's a weird feeling…Again this is being posted without my wonderful beta's magical touch. I mainly blame my msn being a bitch and never letting me on…and the fact that I never really have time on here anyway.

So. Please enjoy and again, I'll try to get the next part up soon…we've caught up in our time line, the first part here is in italics to pull us to the current time of our story, the previous chapters were a retelling of sorts, of how our characters came to be where they are now and were in the first part of the first installment…I like to make things complicated remember.

Let me know what you think!

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**August, 2310**

"_Oh my god," She moaned lowly, "Figgy." he had her pinned up against the wall, her legs wound tightly around his waist, and he was currently assaulting her neck with his mouth, his hands roughly roaming her body as he grinded against her._

"_Shut up." He snarled at her before covering her mouth with his and then carrying her across the room, sitting her on the pool table roughly. _

"_Worried someone's gonna hear?" She teased hotly into his ear, tugging on the lobe with her teeth, smirking when his grip tightened on her thighs._

"_Oh I hope they hear." He growled, pushing his forehead against hers as they stared into each others eyes intensely. They were both panting heavily, but he gave them no time to rest as he pressed his lips against hers again, lowering his hands to undo her skirt._

"_Mmm, no time." She interrupted his actions and instead just pulled her skirt up higher on her waist. He was watching her in pure lust, raising an eyebrow when she began working on his own jeans._

"_God I love you." He sighed deeply, reaching his hand behind her head and pulling her to him for another kiss. She let go of his pants, letting them fall down his legs, and let herself get lost in his kiss._

"_I. Love you. Too." She told him between kisses, her head rolling back when he moved down her throat with his mouth. He pushed her further back on the table then and crawled on top of her, never breaking contact to her body with his lips._

"Wake up sleeping ho." Oz's voice sounded through my apartment, carrying well into my room.

"I think the children's story you're thinking of is Sleeping Beauty." I groaned as I woke, rolling over to face my intruder.

"Ah but she wasn't fucking her ex behind closed, or sometimes, opened doors. This makes you, sleeping ho." Oz smirked, making herself comfortable beside me in my bigger then necessary bed.

"It's too early for this."

"Honey, it's two in the afternoon…oh but wait, I forgot, _you_ were out all night. Oops?" Oz sighed as she feigned innocence, laughing as she dodged my smack.

"So why are you here? Not that I don't _love_ waking up to you and your oh so wonderfully uplifting comments."

"What are you doing Scaramouche?" Oz asked me, her playful tone gone, instead, replaced with worry…It _had_ been a weird couple of months.

I shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "We're having fun."

"He told me you said you loved him."

"Are we sixteen again?" My eyes snapped to her, "It was heat of the moment."

"You and I both know that's a lie." She quickly fired back.

"I can't… I can't have anything other then fun with him Oz. I mean, we haven't even touched on our past-"

"Yea, cause you've been to busying 'touching' on each other!" Oz exclaimed animatedly.

"Nice." I rolled my eyes, knowing she had probably been waiting a while to use that line. "We have an unspoken agreement."

"Well you might want to make sure that agreement is the same on both sides, 'cause I have a feeling it's not."

"Why? What has he told you?" I quirked an eyebrow, it sometimes comes in handy to have a best friend who was also really close to a guy in your life…

"You need to talk to him Scaramouche. You need to meet up with him and talk. No sex, no touching, no kissing. Just talking."

"You make it sound like we have to meet up in public so we don't rip each others clothes off the second we see each other."

"Knowing you two, it wouldn't matter if you guys met in public." Oz pointed out. She was right.

"Well maybe that's all this is. I mean it's not like it can be anything more anyway."

"You told him you loved him baby. It's already more then just sex. Now, I have to go. Promise me you'll go and see him and _talk_ to him." Oz shot me a pointed look as she stood up, making her way to the door.

"Whatever, we'll talk."

"Okay. I'm giving you two days, and then I'm sending _him_ to _you_."

"You're giving me a time frame!?" This was not okay, "Oz, I'll talk to him when I'm ready."

"No no no no. I know how you work, if it's up to you, it will never happen. Two days or he's coming here." She promised, shouting out "Love you!" before the door closed behind her.

True to her word, two days later, around midnight, Galileo Figaro stood outside my door, knocking lighting on the metal entrance.

"She actually sent you." I stared at him in disbelief, my oversized t-shirt only just covering my underwear. Bet he loved that.

"Well you keep running away." Galileo commented, looking tired and worn, much like I felt, and had been feeling for the past couple of days.

"I'm not running away." I paused when he scoffed. "I have places to go, people to see. You just happen to have bad timing."

"Scaramouche. We need to talk about this." He said as he followed me into the apartment, to the kitchen, the door closing behind him.

"About what?" He gave me a pointed look, sighing I continued. "We can't have a relationship, at least not a normal one, if that's what you're looking for."

"Why not? What's stopping us?"

"Our managers for one."

"You mean your mother?"

"And Frank."

"He's not an issue Scaramouche, he works _for_ me, like _most_ managers do." He stabbed at me.

I shook my head, "You're such a jerk."

"And you've turned into a pushover."

"I have not!"

"Your mother controls your life Scaramouche, just like she did before."

"She's my manager, she looks out for me, handles my scheduling, I can see where that could get confusing." He was wearing me out already.

"There's a line between manager and controlling parent, she's crossed it."

"Listen, if you came here just to take stabs at me you can fuck right off. I've made a life for myself without you and I'll have no problem continuing that life without you. You know where the door is." I sneered calmly before turning on my heel and walking to my bedroom, not chancing a look back to see his reaction.

"_I don't know if I can do this much longer Oz." Scaramouche sighed when she approached her friend at the bar._

"_Do what?" Oz gave her a friendly smile with a drink in a highball._

"_Put up with his shit…he's been gone for two days now, and when he left he was stoned off his ass, who knows where he ended up."_

"_You think he has someone else?"_

"_No. No, I don't think he'd do that…He just, he thinks he's invincible… and he's not planning on stopping."_

"_Speak of the devil." Oz raised an eyebrow and nodded to the door way where Galileo had just entered._

_He stood in front of the door for a moment, scanning the bar, his face lighting up when he saw Scaramouche and Oz. As he made his way towards them he shook his head before giving into the words and the song that had currently plagued his mind._

_Man, don't tell me about love and peace  
when one of the Joneses have a handgun  
pointed at me  
Don't tell me to just say no  
I'm an addict, I say don't let me go  
Whatever happened to sex, drugs n' rock n' roll?__Now we just have AIDS, crack and techno_

_(sex drugs and rock n' roll - guns n' roses)_

"_Well at least he admits it." Oz offered when Galileo stopped singing and grinned at the two girls._

_He looked completely clueless, "What?"_

"_Where have you _been_ for the last forty eight hours!?" Scaramouche questioned him emotionally, ignoring Oz's comment._

"_Out?"_

"_No? Really!?"_

"_I just needed air."_

"_Why are you doing this?" Scaramouche asked him helplessly._

"_Doing what?"_

"_You're going to kill yourself Figgy."_

"_Awe baby. No I'm not." Galileo's tone changed as he pulled her to his body, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm fine."_

He had left that night, he had left and I hadn't heard from him since. I wanted to go to him, hash it all out, but memories from the past kept me in my place.

It had been another few weeks and I was still a mess. I was missing meetings, forgetting chords and lyrics and of course was taking more verbal abuse then usual from my mother. There was one issue that kept pressing on my mind and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't shake the question. So after talking to Oz I obtained his address and drove myself to see him.

"I have one question." I told him when he answered his door to find me standing there, determination set in my eyes, which quickly eyed the beer Galileo held in his hand. "And that answers half of it."

"Whatever." Galileo sighed; probably tired of me 'judging' him.

"Do you still do drugs?" I asked him, my voice knowingly vulnerable yet stern.

"Scaramouche-"

"It's a simple yes or no question _Figgy_." I cut him off before he could start dodging the question.

"Yes." He admitted shortly, catching my arm when I sighed and shook my head in disappointment. "But not like before."

"Not like before, like when we were still together or not like before, when you were hospitalized from nearly od'ing?" I asked, not surprised when he dropped his beer to the floor. "I can't do it again, any of it."

"How did you know-"

"Frank called me freaking out. He told me what had been happening, what _was_ happening. I basically told him to fuck off, to leave me alone. I wanted nothing to do with you. I figured if you didn't care that you were killing yourself, why should I?" I explained as I cleaned up the broken glass from the floor, Galileo following me as I moved to the kitchen. "I went anyway."

"When?"

_I was sitting in the recording studio, hammering out another song when Oz barged into the room and threw my cell phone at me._

"_Please, for the love of rock answer the damn thing! It won't stop ringing and I'm sick of your ring tone, as much as I love it of course." _

_I pulled the headphones to around my neck and quirked an eyebrow at her, "Why didn't you just answer it?...like you usually do?"_

_I looked at the phone as it rang again, sending Queen's recovered Bohemian Rhapsody echoing off the walls. I looked up at Oz, her eyes reflecting the panic I was feeling after reading "Frank" on my phone's display._

"_He's called at least five times now…something's wrong."_

_I glanced down at the still buzzing phone, "even if something's wrong, what am I supposed to do?"_

"_Just answer it!" _

_I took a breath and flipped the phone open, "Hello?"_

"_Scaramouche! Thank god, I've been calling you-" His voice was panicked. _

_I cut him off, he needed to get to the point. "I'm in the middle of recording, what do you want?"_

"_It's Figaro," I felt my chest tighten immediately, "he's really done it this time Scaramouche…I don't, I don't know what or how much...but he's fucked."_

_I snapped. "Well that's his own damn fault, Frank. I made my choice when he chose that shit over me."_

"_Please Scaramouche… he's white as a ghost and he keeps rambling between songs. He keeps going on about the Seven Sea's and Britney Spears, and you…he won't shut up about you." Frank paused and I heard him gasp for a breath, I could picture him wiping his sweat covered brow, choking on the air in his frenzy._

_I had been staring at the floor as he spoke, my concentration broken when Oz grabbed for my hand, pulling me out of the studio as she grabbed the phone from me._

"_We're on our way Frank…where are you guys?"_

_I didn't pay attention as she received the directions, only blindly followed her lead, torn between emotions. I didn't want to care, yet I did. I cared entirely too much, and suddenly I was eighteen again. Eighteen and living at the Heartbreak, naïve to the real heartbreak I had experienced._

_We pulled into a shady looking apartment complex and Oz rushed us into the building, stopping only when we reached the apartment of Galileo Figaro. With one bang on the door it flew open, revealing the Frank I had envisioned only moments earlier, and sure enough he was looking haggard, sweating profusely, and pointing to the living room where sure enough, Galileo was lying on his back on the floor, completely spaced out._

_Oz called out first, "Gaz?"_

_He jumped at her voice before turning his head to look towards us, and then he was suddenly on his feet and scooping me into his arms, "Scaramouche!"_

_I froze as he embraced me, tears immediately welling in my eyes, fuck I missed him. "Fig-"_

_He released me then, kissing me soundly on the lips. "How was your trip!?"_

_I stared at him, glancing at Frank before returning my eyes to Galileo's. "Great?"_

"_Did you bring anything back?" He asked before pushing me back against the wall, lowering his head to push his clammy forehead against mine, "I missed you, baby."_

_I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut while my hand moved on its own accord and rested itself on his hip. Then suddenly he was gone. I opened my eyes in time to see him stalk to what I assumed was his room and shut the door behind him, the lock soundly clicking into place._

_I let out a shaky breath, "What the fuck was that?"_

"_I told you, he's really lost it…he's been like this since I came back." Frank answered, throwing himself onto the couch heavily._

"_Which was how long ago?" Oz asked him._

"_An hour ago?"_

_I had stopped listening. I was at his door now, knocking, begging him to let me in. He didn't. So Oz picked the lock._

_I entered the room cautiously, his body was curled up in the middle of his bare mattress. "Figgy?" _

_No response._

_I moved to the mattress, he was barely breathing. "Frank!?"_

_Oz and Frank were both at my side in an instant. Oz had seen me vulnerable, scared, on more than one occasion, but I knew this was a new side of me Frank had never seen, and I could tell it increased his panic for Galileo ten fold. _

_Oz felt for his pulse, "He needs to get to a hospital."_

_Frank cursed before cracking his neck, bracing himself for the carrying the dead weight Galileo would be in his current state. When he went to pick up the almost lifeless body, it sprang to life, arms swinging._

"_Don't fucking touch me!" Galileo's voice boomed roughly. He threw himself off the bed, backing into the dresser against the wall._

"_Figaro, you're not well." Frank tried to approach him but he was met with a failed punch to the face. The follow through of the swing caused Galileo to stumble forward and I braced myself for him._

"_Figgy, stop." I pleaded, running my hand down his arm and grabbing his hand in mine._

"_Scaramouche…" He sighed, running his free thumb across my cheekbone, I unconsciously leaned into his touch._

_I knew what I had to do. "Figgy…I want to show you something."_

_He looked surprised, but curious. "Really?"_

"_Of course!" I beamed, "It's not here though…we have to drive there."_

"_Where is it?"_

"_Well I can't just tell you," I shook my head with a smile, brushing my hand over his brow and into his hair, his eyes fluttered closed at my touch, "it would ruin the surprise."_

"_I love you." He whispered softly, bringing his forehead to mine again._

"_I know baby," I sighed when he leaned forward, kissing me softly, and I responded, moving my lips against his. I pulled away when I felt my tears spill from my closed eyes and avoiding any further eye contact I began to pull him out of the room. "We have to go now."_

_Frank drove with Oz in the passenger seat as Galileo and I sat in the back, his head in my lap._

"_You went away." Galileo whispered quietly, I had barely heard him…his breathing was becoming shallow again._

_I paused my ministrations of running my hand through his hair, "I had to."_

"_Please don't go away again…" He kissed my free hand, the one he held in front of him, playing idly with my calloused fingers. _

_I couldn't answer him, not that he'd remember anyway, but I had already felt guilty for playing into his weakness to get him to the hospital in the first place, so I just resumed to play with hair, watching as we approached the emergency drop off of the hospital._

"_I'll be right back. Stay here." Oz ordered us when we came to a stop._

"_We're here?" Galileo mumbled, he was almost completely out of it again…which was probably a good thing as much as it was a bad one._

"_Yep, you need to stay awake though okay? Can you do that?"_

"_Anything for you, Scary Bush." I felt him smile against the hand he held against his lips._

"_Good." I sighed and then saw two rather strong looking orderlies approach the car._

_Oz opened his door, "Gaz?"_

_Galileo raised his head from my lap, "Oz?" _

"_Yea, you have to get out of the car okay?"_

_He sat up completely, pulling me out of the car with him. The two orderlies flanked either side of us. "Where are we?" _

_I stepped away from him then, cautiously, "Galileo…"_

_His eyes widened in understanding and fear, "NO!" _

"_You need this." I cringed as the two men grabbed onto his arms._

_He cursed and flailed against his restraints, "No! I'm fine!"_

"_You haven't been fine in a long time Galileo…" I told him sadly._

_He tried to punch and kick, but was only manhandled further, "Scaramouche!"_

_Oz held me to her as I fell apart, trying unsuccessfully to hold myself together as my body shook with unreleased sobs. _

_They managed to get Galileo onto a bed, immediately injecting him with some other kind of drug to sedate him and he quickly calmed down._

"_Scaramouche…" He cried weakly from the bed, reaching out his hand as they wheeled him into the ER, through the doors meant to separate the sick from the healthy. And I cried._

I pulled out from the memory, I hated that memory. I was surprised I had let myself give him that much detail of what had happened, still, I continued.

"You started detoxing. I sat there through it all, holding your hand, wondering if this was it. If you had actually fucked up so bad that you were gonna die. Once I found out you were going to be okay, I left. I don't know how long you were in there for after that, I never answered Frank's calls. Though eventually I did call him, only to tell him that unless you'd died, I didn't want him calling anymore. And that was it."

"Jesus…I-I never knew." Galileo admitted apologetically.

"I didn't want you to."

He shook his head, "But if I had of known I could've-"

"Exactly, you could've done something, said something. I didn't want you to. We broke up because you wouldn't stop using drugs, why the hell would I want anything to do with you after you nearly died because of them?"

"I'm sorry Scaramouche."

"That's great and all, but considering you're still using, it means nothing to me. And after I leave, you'll mean nothing to me. I _can't_ deal with you when you're high, and I _won't_."

His eyes widened in panic, "I can stop."

"If you could stop, you would have after the hospital…and I was stupid to assume that you had."

"I told you yes, I still use drugs because I do, once in a while. I haven't in a long time though Scaramouche."

"How long?" I would be surprised if he told me anything over a month.

"Well last time didn't count…" Of course it didn't.

"Figgy."

"I took a hit the last night I saw you, after I left, but before that it had been months."

"I can't do this." I shook my head and looked towards the door.

"You know what? Fine, you can't do this, I'm such fuck up. Sorry for bringing you down, _Scaramouche."_ He snapped, saying my name as if to remind me who gave it to me.

"Real nice Figgy. I had almost forgotten the other reason we broke up. Thanks for reminding me though. _Asshole_." I snit before I made my way to the door.

"_Fuck_… Scaramouche, wait!" I heard him curse himself, knowing he had let his temper win again.

"What?" I asked impatiently when he caught me before I could open the door.

"I'm sorry, and I know I say that a lot, and I'm going to say it a lot. But I _want_ to change, I want to be with you again. But, I don't know how to do it, at least not on my own."

"So what? You want me to help you?" I eyed him curiously to which he nodded. "Why would I help you?...On second thought, don't answer that."

"I could." Galileo smirked at my thoughts going straight to the gutter and I cursed how easily he could still read me.

"Figgy, I, I don't know if that's such a good idea…"

"Why not? I never stopped loving you Scaramouche, and I never will….And we could even better our music together, release some duets?"

"Whoa, okay one thing at a time. If we try being together again, we have to keep it to ourselves. My mother can _not_ find out. So, no music compilations as of right now."

"Scaramouche" Galileo began to argue.

"No. We're doing this on my terms. You're the one who needs help. You came to me."

"If you're going to make it like that then forget it."

"Just for now okay?" I pleaded, okay, so I wanted him back more then I'd been admitting.

"I guess." He sighed in defeat.

"Okay. So first things first. Where's your stash?" I asked with a look that meant business.

_I know I said Galileo Figaro's fall off the wagon a few weeks ago was the clear sign to thwart the rumours of his and Scaramouche's reunion, but my sources are telling me otherwise. After a summer of rendezvous' and an obvious minor heartbreak, it seems our two favorite rock stars are back on. I wonder how long it will last this time. _


End file.
